<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Tommy and Tubbo's Survival Guide to the End of the World by ForeShadowingKing</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368674">Tommy and Tubbo's Survival Guide to the End of the World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeShadowingKing/pseuds/ForeShadowingKing'>ForeShadowingKing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Gen, Post-Apocalypse, sleepy bois inc - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:00:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>76,526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeShadowingKing/pseuds/ForeShadowingKing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If you're reading this, I'm assuming you are either bored or need some tips for surviving this hell swamp. I don't really care which one it is, just give me my journal back, or else. </p>
<p>Sincerely, TommyInnit (and Tubbo)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>212</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Journal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone, this fic will not have any romance, and it is not a zombie fic. This will not be written like a journal, but pieces of the journal will be written in some of the chapters. Warning: There will be death and mild gore. Please enjoy my dudes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>??? POV</strong>
</p>
<p>My legs are tired from trudging through the seemingly endless muck, water having found its way into my shoes and making loud squashing sounds with every step I take. My breath has been labored for a while now, and I can't help but question how much longer I'll be able to stand for.</p>
<p>The answer was apparently two seconds, because as soon as the thought of a break crossed my mind, my knees buckled out from under me, landing me face first into the muddy ground. I splutter as I try to regain my footing, but it's much too slippery, and I'm much too tired.</p>
<p>So instead of continuing my journey through the unforgiving swamp, I scoot myself over to a crumbled building that sticks out in the murky lake surrounding me, cupping water from what seems to be a relatively cleaner puddle to my thirsty lips. I lay against the broken wall, gasping and shivering as I stare into the sun, still hovering mercilessly above at midday.</p>
<p>There is nothing prominent in view besides a fire truck turned onto its side, not a single person in sight apart from me. Of course, that's not very reassuring, as I remember my most recent encounter I had with other people. The wound on my leg that made my walk look more like a hobble should have been more than enough reason to find a more hidden place to take a break at, but like a fool, I remain. My gaze lingers back to the firetruck, its bright red sticking out against the dull browns, greens, and blues of its surroundings, although I couldn't t decide if it was pretty or not.</p>
<p>My eyes felt like drooping the longer I stared at it, my long trek finally beginning to take its hold on me. And it would have to, if I hadn't spotted it.</p>
<p>With great effort and an embarrassing amount of time, I trudged over to a briefcase tied carefully onto the ladder of the truck with the hose. It was battered and quite clearly very used, but seemed to be keeping out the water just fine. But the briefcase itself wasn't what made me gasp. It was what was written on it, in big, scribblish letters.</p>
<p>PROPERTY OF TOMMYINNIT. I WILL KNOW IF YOU ■■■■ WITH MY ■■■■.</p>
<p>The words 'Fuck' and 'Shit' had been scratched out so that they were near illegible, and while they were clearly meant to be threatening, I couldn't help but chuckle as I gingerly untie the sturdy knot, being careful to not let it fall as I gently bring it into my arms. More laughter fills my aching lungs as I turn it over, a tear threatening to form as well.</p>
<p>The back of the briefcase was mostly filled with childish scribbling and doodles etched into the the metal with what appeared to be a knife. One phrase leapt out to me. It was a small, almost meaningless phrase, but it was the name that caused me to clutch the briefcase to my chest in an awkward sort of hug as I limped my way back to where I had been seated before.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hɘllo! I'm Tubbo! :D</em>
</p>
<p>The backwards 'e' had a smaller, correct 'e' above it in the same writing as the front, clearly made by Tommy. A warm smile graced my lips as I clicked open the briefcase, that despite having such a threatening front, seemed so childish. I wasn't quite sure what I expected when I opened the briefcase, but for some reason, the sight made me cry alongside my smile.</p>
<p>It was a book.</p>
<p>The handwriting on the cover was clearly Tommy's, with a little note on the bottom with backwards letters and a few misspelled words, which I presume was Tubbo's. Many questions raced through my mind as I gently pried it from the briefcase with my fingers, being careful not to let my shaking let the book fall into the water.</p>
<p>
  <em>Tommy and Tubbo's Survival Guide to the End of The World: By Tommy (With help from Tubbo)</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If you're reading this, I'm assuming you are either bored or need some tips for surviving this hell swamp. I don't really care which one it is, just give me my journal back, or else.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sincerely, TommyInnit (and Tubbo)</em>
</p>
<p>My index finger felt along the rough surface, leading me down to the bottom, where another, smaller note was visible, written in blue ink instead of black. It appeared to me that it was written in a rush, seeing as how all the letters were sprawling together in places, but then again, maybe that was just how Tubbo usually wrote.</p>
<p>
  <em>Plɘas keeq this ifyou neeb it wɘ woud like you   to havɘ it anbstay safɘ -Tubbo</em>
</p>
<p>I opened the first page, greeted with what seemed to be the first entry to this 'Survival Guide', but was in reality just a page full of doodles and random comments such as 'Pog Champ' and 'This Sucks'. The next few  pages were more or less the same, except somewhere in the last of these doodle pages, in Tommy's unmistakable handwriting, was a little tip they must've learned on their journey.</p>
<p>I hid the wetness of my face by dabbing my soaked sleeve onto my face as I began to read the poorly made journal.</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <strong>Tommy POV</strong>
</p>
<p>"What the fuck was that!?" I scream, the sound coming out more like a high-pitched squeal. Tubbo only screeches back, following close behind me as we sprint through what used to be a town, now a hellish, watery wasteland. I'm assuming this means he doesn't really care what it is, just that we have to run from it. </p>
<p>The murky water is halfway-up to my knees, just barely shallow enough so that we can see the bottom, and just annoyingly high enough so that it makes every step a challenge. My loot weighs down against my back, everything from the waist down completely soggy and water-logged, causing me to break into shivers every five seconds. My body was mere minutes from collapsing from all the new strain I was putting on it, but unfortunately, I couldn't really do anything about it.</p>
<p>Tubbo wasn't in any better condition than me, panting and gasping just as much as he fumbled along, now besides me. No offense to him, but I must've looked like absolute shit if he was anything to go off of.</p>
<p>Tubbo's green eyes were dark, a patch of black forming underneath them, highlighting how little he's slept in the past couple weeks. His brown hair seemed almost black, bangs plastered against his head as it dripped water. His clothes weren't much better. In fact, they might've actually been worse, clinging to his red, sun-burned skin and just as water logged as mine. Blood sticks to him despite constantly being washed by the water, and I'm fairly certain most of the cuts and nicks on him are still bleeding. He breathes erratically, movements sluggish and awkward as he tries to run with stiff muscles.</p>
<p>"Tommy-" He chokes breathlessly, his voice hitching as he takes in a massive gasp of desperate air. It was nearly nighttime, the darkness of the sky making it hard to see in the near-blinding fog, but I was still able to see Tubbo slip into the muck when I turned around.</p>
<p>"Tubbo!" I nearly slipped myself as I rushed towards him, gripping his arms as tightly as I could through his thrashing before hauling him up, gasping as his face broke free of the water. He was spluttering it out from his lungs, the coughing sounds painful as I help him sit upright.</p>
<p>"Fuck," He mutters quietly, a groan escaping him as he tries to fight against me and stand back up. I push him back down a bit too forcefully it seemed, and his face contorts into a hiss, biting back pain I hadn't been aware he was in. I bite the inside of my lip as I watch him continue his struggling to move his legs, just now noticing how the nasty gash on his thigh had reopened, blood turning the nearby water red.</p>
<p>"You idiot!" I hiss quietly at him, my heart somehow pumping faster, unknown reserves of adrenaline suddenly rushing into me. "I thought we agreed to tell each other shit like this!" Tubbo gives me a nervous smile before immediately breaking back into a yelp.</p>
<p>"Sorry..." His voice is quieter, a little hoarse. The sun has practically set, and glancing around in the little remaining light, I see no buildings left standing, no shelter left for us to use. Tubbo's shivering, much like I am, the wind crashing on our exposed skin. After watching him nearly drown in almost forty centimeters of water, it was painfully clear Tubbo wasn't in any condition to walk.</p>
<p>The howling that had ceased for mere minutes returned, and while they weren't nearby, they certainly weren't far. My body stiffened when I heard them, fighting nearly every impulse I had to stay by my friend's side instead of flee. His eyes widen in horror, trying once again to scramble to his feet, once again letting out a yelp as he failed miserably, even with my help.</p>
<p>"I-I don't-" Tubbo whimpered, but even with using me as a crutch, his legs refused to cooperate, one shaking intensely as the bleeding one seemed almost unmoving. "Tommy, I don't want- want to die." He seems on the verge of tears as he looks at me, the howling getting closer to our location.</p>
<p>Tubbo had been my friend for a good while now. It was only by sheer coincidence that we happened to meet up the day of the earthquake, somehow managing to not be crushed alive or drowned in the raging waters. Sometimes I would catch glimpses of corpses floating just beneath the surface of the swamp, my eyes quickly flicking away, but not before a thought runs through my mind each time: That could have been us.</p>
<p>Even after three weeks since the end of the world, it still seems so surreal, like some realistic studio set, or one of those coma dreams. Tubbo must have saved me from drowning in the flash floods a dozen times by now, and me to him. We've been trudging towards what we hope is non-flooded high ground to so far no avail, but we've managed to stay together, and most importantly, alive. But staring at the feeble boy in front of me, desperately sucking in air through his cold, wet body, the reality began crashing in.</p>
<p>Tubbo could die.</p>
<p>"Get on my back," I practically shouted at him, pushing back my own panic and exhaustion for now. Tubbo jumped at my outburst, staring at me with wide, confused eyes as I kneeled down to him so he could get on easier.</p>
<p>"Tommy, what are you doing," He whimpered back, hands still staying firm by his side. "Y-You can't." I scoffed, gripping his wrists tightly and adjusting my pack so that it rested against my chest instead of my stomach, the bottom touching the disgusting water.</p>
<p>"I don't care!" I shouted again, forcibly looping his arms around my neck, ignoring how he scrunched his face is obvious pain. "Now come on! We're leaving, right now, together!" I couldn't see his face anymore from the angle I faced, but I felt cold hands clamp down around my chest, resting on the backpack.</p>
<p>"Thank you," Tubbo whispered, and despite feeling like toppling over myself, I helped him wrap his legs around my sore waist. "Thank you, Tommy." I smirked, ignoring the way my sides burned and my legs were moments away from buckling out from under Tubbo's heavy weight, walking almost blindly back into the destroyed street.</p>
<p>A few weeks ago, this was a small town. Now, the same sturdy buildings lay in heaps of rubble on the ground, the streets flooded and cars upturned and crushed. I groan as I struggle to step over a lamppost that must've come loose from the earthquake, almost sending Tubbo crashing back to the ground.</p>
<p>The howling doesn't seem to be getting any closer, which I'm thankful for, but then again, I can't help but keep panicking. Me and Tubbo need rest. Now. It was too dangerous to sleep so exposed, and even if we weren't in immediate danger from the dogs, we still needed shelter. There didn't seem to be any in sight that wasn't threatening to collapse at a moments notice, our previous shelter having flooded and nearly drowned us in the death trap. We had been wandering ever since in desperate need of food, having completely exhausted our meager supply of arcade candy this afternoon. The night was pitch black as well, making it almost impossible to see where I was going, and I nearly tripped over more debris as my sore legs pushed through the water.</p>
<p>There was simply nothing in this wasteland.</p>
<p>"Tommy," Came Tubbo's faint voice from besides me. "Do you see that?"  He tapped my left shoulder gently, causing me to turn, my knee buckling dangerously as I did, coming close to losing my balance. Tubbo sucked in his breath again, his arms tensing around me.</p>
<p>"I can't see shit, Tubbo," I mumbled, squinting in the general direction Tubbo was pointing in. "Do you have like, bat vision or something?" That earned a chuckle but also a shake of his head.</p>
<p>"There's a car," He muttered, and upon closer inspection, I could definitely see something car-like shine in the faint starlight.</p>
<p>"There's lots of cars, Tubbo," I breathed, feeling too faint to act blunt as I usually would. "You're going to- going- Fuck." After several stumbles and missteps, the weight I had been carrying for maybe a minute became too much for my tired legs to bear, sending us both crashing with a yelp, and while I would like to say mine wasn't as high-pitched as Tubbo's, I can't. Mine was higher.</p>
<p>"You okay?" Tubbo was propped onto his elbows, holding his face just barely above the water. "Tommy? Tommy, can you walk?" He angled himself so his weight rested on one arm, using his other to give me a slight shake. I can't help but groan again, my sides practically screaming at me as my legs shook feverishly the harder I tried to stand back up again. I grip what seems to be a fire hydrant to stabilize myself, carrying Tubbo having taken much more effort than I would care to admit. He continued watching me with those concerned eyes of his, unmoving.</p>
<p>"I'll be fine," I grumbled, wincing when something sharp poked against my calf. Probably glass. I raised my middle finger up to the darkness, brows furrowing as I mentally cursed every single shitty thing that's happened. Tubbo chuckled, dragging himself over to me.</p>
<p>"Kind of bad spot we're in, yeah?" Tubbo tried for a joke, the attempt at humor only serving to depress us further. His lips popped as we fell silent, both seemingly waiting for the howling to come closer. I huffed, pulling myself onto unsteady feet with the help of the hydrant, legs trembling and chest practically burning as it continued pumping air throughout me while Tubbo watched me miserably.</p>
<p>A rumble from my stomach alerted me that I was, in fact, getting hungry, the meager lunch I had doing little to keep my hunger at bay. My breath continued its raggedy rhythm as I searched over the town once more, nothing having changed from the last time I looked over it. My gaze eventually settled on the car Tubbo had pointed out, a large, brown one not too far from where we collapsed. At first I had only been able to see the reflection of it, but looking closer, I could see why it had come to Tubbo's attention.</p>
<p>"Think you can walk, Tubbo?" My voice was quiet, the stillness of the night gripping around me in an unsettling hold. Maybe it was because of the eerie lack of other people, the oddness of seeing once grand building reduced to rubble, or perhaps even because of the natural shadows caused by the moonless sky. Probably all three.</p>
<p>"No," He groaned, fumbling to stand anyway, water rippling around him so that the dirt that had calmed stirred once more. I sighed, giving him my arm to use as support once more, not quite sure who I was praying to so that I wouldn't fall again as well. With quivering fingers he gripped it, hauling himself up on his shaky good leg. A crooked smile grazed his lips.</p>
<p>"We going to the car?" He asked, lacing his voice with a teasing tone I hadn't heard in quite a while. Despite how genuinely fucked we were, I couldn't help but roll my eyes, for now just glad Tubbo could hobble and be mildly annoying.</p>
<p>"Yeah, we're going to the car," I muttered back, the rather short trek seeming to take ages, the scratched, shiny surface of the somehow upright car now just an arm's reach away. My fingertips brushed against the cool surface of the handle, hesitantly craning my hand so to open it.</p>
<p>It was locked.</p>
<p>"Are you fucking shitting me?" I whisper-shouted at it, continuing to mercilessly heave the small handle back and forth in an attempt to pry it open. "Don't you fucking dare do this to me- Please!" Tubbo chuckled at my increasing frustration, bending over so as to grab something off the ground. I didn't pay his awfully slow attempts to stand back up much though until I heard a crashing sound to my right, the rear window now utterly smashed. Tubbo grinned.</p>
<p>"It's open," He cheered dully, being careful not to cut himself on the glass as he simply unlocked the door from the inside, the door popping open.</p>
<p>"I keep forgetting how hardcore you can be," I grumbled, helping him limp over to the backseat, now entirely showered in glass. His stupid grin remained even through his wincing, whether it be from the glass or his already present pain I wasn't sure as he laid down on the soaked seats. I climbed in after him, being careful not to hit him as I closed the door behind me.</p>
<p>The second it did another wave of exhaustion washed over me, making me stumble in the enclosed space as my eyelids threatened to close on their own. I collapsed onto the passenger seat, Tubbo already stifling through his pack while I watched him, my position cramped and uncomfortable. He hoisted out a water-tight briefcase we found back in the arcade after a few moments of blind fumbling, the reflective surface catching my eye.</p>
<p>"Need help?" I asked through a stifled yawn, trying to ignore the cold seeping into my skin from my wet clothes. Tubbo's shake of his head was barely noticeable in the darkness, fingers finally unlatching the case after several failed attempts. He tossed it into the front seat after finding a dry piece of cloth, using my vlog knife to cut the cloth around his injured leg. I merely watched as he began ripping the shirt to bandage-like shreds, flinching and whimpering as he tightened the bleeding area all on his own.</p>
<p>I looked away soon after, knowing that his medical skills far surpassed mine, or rather, my lack of them, did not do much to help either my nerves or guilt. Neither of us liked to talk much about the incident, instead falling into a steady routine of Tubbo bandaging himself while I stood guard. I gave outside a quick glance, and as expected, I couldn't see shit, and probably wouldn't be able to for the next few hours. Guard duty complete.</p>
<p>My eyes drifted back to the briefcase haphazardly thrown to me, deciding to take care of it instead of worry myself further, Tubbo clearly capable of taking care of himself. It was cool and rather heavy, but it was more than necessary to keep our delicate items dry. It held the bandages, dry clothes, and when we had some, food. There was also one item stuffed inside, one rather unnecessary, but neither me nor Tubbo felt like tossing it out from when we found it tucked inside the briefcase.</p>
<p> There had been several documents inside, including what a rather large and sturdy business planner, which for some reason, only had the calendar written in it. We'd been using it less to keep track of the days as we'd said, but instead simply doodle and play stupid games in the pages.</p>
<p>I cracked open the front cover, gliding my fingers over the rough pages, unable to decipher any of the written words from how dark it was. There was a pen tucked into it's spine, a black one with a thin tip, and I soon found myself holding it in my tired hands, blearily turning it between my fingers. I turned the pages of the planner absentmindedly, looking over the stupid drawings Tubbo and I had made, most of them so bad I couldn't help but grin to myself.</p>
<p>A small snore drew my attention away from the small planner in my hands, and craning my head so to see behind me, I saw Tubbo sprawled in the backseat, probably having dozed off immediately after re-bandaging his wound. I snorted at the sight, but in truth, Tubbo deserved a nice rest. I angled myself back into the most comfortable position available to me: leaning against the soggy seat with my back to the door, legs angled so that I could easily rest the planner in my lap to write, being careful to make the letters legible as I wrote practically blind.</p>
<p>
  <em>Note to self: Cars make great impromptu shelters</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The First Entry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I didn't include it in the first chapter, but from here on out I'll be using He/They pronouns for Tubbo. Hope you like this chapter too &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Tommy POV</strong>
</p>
<p>As expected from sleeping in a car, I woke up sore.</p>
<p>My eyes flickered open to take in the first rays on the sunrise, groaning as I adjusted my body out of its cramped up form. The planner and pen had been taken out from my hands, and glancing outside, I could see the surreal surface of the surprisingly clear water reflect the morning sun. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, stretching as much as the enclosed space would allow me.</p>
<p>"Good morning, Tommy!" Tubbo chirped, smiling as he gave me a quick wave. "I found some Breakfast; Want some?" In his lap were a small variety of granola bars, and glancing back to the front, I saw the glove box open and completely raided. Smirking, I extended an arm to him, and he gracelessly tossed some into my open palm.</p>
<p>"Thanks," I mumbled, still groggy and trying to fight off my rather long sleep, ignoring how my damp clothes clung to my skin for now. Tubbo continued smiling, completely dry, probably having changed while I slept, sitting in a now glass-free back seat. With some difficulty I managed to pry the packaging open, practically drooling as I stuffed it into my mouth, expecting at least a plain bar. It was not.</p>
<p>"Like it?" Tubbo chuckled, watching me choke on the hard, stale, and probably expired health bar. "I already ate all the chocolate chip, so sorry about that." I gave him the best glare I could muster so early in the morning, and he bent over into a quick fit of giggles before tossing me another bar to my lap.</p>
<p>"I was just kidding!" Tubbo whined through his small fit of laughter, stretching their arms to the car's ceiling. "You don't have to be so upset." I huffed playfully, eyeing the new bar, which as I assumed, was still a health bar, just with some chocolate in it.</p>
<p>"You're lucky I'm not in the mood to fight you," I pretended to grumble, avoiding letting Tubbo see my own smile as I shoved the new bar into my famished body, the taste bland, yes, but I devoured it nonetheless. I even finished the bars from before, chatting about nothing in particular as I ate and gazed out into the now visible street.</p>
<p>It was rather narrow, the water definitely having fallen to at least half of what it was last night, and clear enough to see the multitude of gaping cracks in the asphalt. The remnants of buildings lay caved into theirselves, only a select few boasting still-standing walls, but I was more than certain nobody would dare enter them. Tubbo and I had made that unfortunate mistake when we camped in the arcade for the last two weeks, the rest of the building caving in on us and trapping us inside as water steadily crashed in, flooding the building entirely. </p>
<p>I'm still not sure how I'm alive, honestly.</p>
<p>"You should change," Tubbo eventually said from the backseat, handing me an over-sized uniform from the arcade, that while both horrendously ugly and dirty, was dry. I nodded grimly, all too aware of the fact that sleeping in soaked clothes probably wasn't the best, but in my defense, I was sure that if I had tried I most likely would have collapsed in the road and never gotten back up. This did not stop my sniffling.</p>
<p>With aching legs I got out into the street, the quiet still eerie to me even after three weeks. It felt awkward changing in the open, but then again, there wasn't a soul in sight as I did so as quickly as I could, rolling up the cuffs of my baggy pants. The shirt hung loosely on me, making me seem even thinner than I probably already was, its bright green color easy to pick out in the wasteland. I glanced around again. Nobody.</p>
<p>"Done?" Tubbo asked, turning to face me when I clicked the car door back open to slip inside. He snorted when he saw how ridiculous I looked, but said nothing more, but did put down his rubix cube as I rested my body against the headrest, the sogginess of the seats having dried significantly.</p>
<p>"Not a word," I grumbled, shuffling through the car floor to gather my belongings, still watching the empty street intently. Tubbo threw another granola bar at my head, heavy as a brick. Painful, but I ate it anyway, the handful from before doing little to please my stomach.</p>
<p>"Wasn't going to!" Tubbo spoke through a full mouth, munching on what seemed to be the last bar for himself, surely just as hungry as I was. "But I did want to ask you something. Kind of important." I hummed, meeting his eyes in the cracked rearview mirror, stuffing my wet clothes into my bag before slugging it against my back.</p>
<p>"Do you think we should just- Stay here?" They mumbled, breaking eye contact to gesture towards the rubble surrounding us. "I know you said that you wanted to get to high ground, but we don't even know if we're going in the right direction." I remained silent as I continued munching on my bar, Tubbo taking it as a sign to continue. "And I'm just getting so tired of walking! There has to be another store somewhere around here, and this car can maybe-"</p>
<p>"Tubbo," I interrupted him with a solemn tone, opening the backseat door and leaning against the frame, his wide eyes staring back up at me. "We have to get to high ground. We can't risk it again." Tubbo bit the inside of his lip, shifting his gaze away from me and back into the empty street, and from what I could see, it landed on a vaguely human figure laying still in the water. My breath hitched when I saw it, but said nothing more, giving Tubbo his moment, his demeanor so different from but a minute prior.</p>
<p>"Yeah, I-" Tubbo choked out, taking my hand for support as he slid out of the car. "I suppose you're right." He mirrored my grim smile, a slight limp the only reminder of his injury as he took one last look at our temporary shelter, a sigh escaping him. I nodded, following besides him at his awfully slow pace, painfully aware of the thoughts running through his troubled mind, because they were the same ones going through mine.</p>
<p>Keep walking, or we're going to end up like that corpse.</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <em>The water level has gotten lower, so I'm guessing that means we've made at least some progress. We've seen the dogs a lot less now too. Does that mean they're calming down or that they just stick to towns and stuff?? Oh, we're practically starving now too. The last thing we ate were some gross ass granola bars from a car we slept in last night, and it's been a while since we've seen a town or anything. Tubbo suggested we try to hunt the dogs, but since he still can't walk that good I doubt we'd be able to. There's not much to say here really, I'm just really bored. And tired. I really hate walking. At least I didn't have any near-death experiences today, which is a pleasant surprise, considering this is literal hell. Can't say the same for Tubbo though :/</em>
</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>My pen stopped its intense scribbling after that last line, finding plenty more I wished to write, yet somehow no more words to do so. I pressed the small book closed, sliding the sophisticated pen in its spiral, continuing to hold it in my lap as I gazed across our new surroundings, the sun high in the sky, yet I found some shelter from its absurd heat from a small outcropping in the earth.</p>
<p>Tubbo and I had been following the broken, splintered road for hours now, finding nothing of value in the town besides a rather sharp pole for Tubbo and a dented baseball bat for me, but unfortunately, no food. We had decided not to press our luck at the store again for fear of dogs, instead continuing our long trek in hopes to get to the higher, northern end of the country, where we could hopefully take a break from constantly trudging through water.</p>
<p>While we'd been walking on the road, neither me or Tubbo knew what was safer: The road itself or the grass besides it. The asphalt was littered with cracks and fissures, the rock jutting out in places, constantly tripping us and shooting pain through the soles of our worn down shoes. The ground was only better in the sense that it was softer, the breaks in its continuity less severe. However, we did discover that it was susceptible to collapse, the memory of the panic that overtook me fresh in my mind from the sinkhole, something I wasn't even aware happened in England.</p>
<p>"What you doing?" Tubbo asked, sliding down the wall of rock I'd been leaning against to sit besides me, his limp still prominent, but significantly better than last night. A little color had returned to his skin after his nasty fall from minutes prior, having to change into the same hideous uniform as me, although I now see that he kept the smaller size for himself.</p>
<p>"Got bored," I replied, not bothering to hide my chuckle as I looked over his attire, earning an eye roll from him as I flipped the planner over so that he could see my paragraph of scribbling. "Just started writing about how shit today was."</p>
<p>"Like a diary!" Tubbo chuckled, knocking aside the fistful of muddy earth I tossed them with a smile, both of us drying our hands on our slightly less dirty clothes.</p>
<p>"Not like a diary!" I shot back, snapping the planner shut and holding it tightly in my hands as I huffed playfully. I was tempted to merely shove it back into the briefcase and continue our trek, seeing as how we had hardly made any progress from the car and it was now nearly midday, but Tubbo brought a hand forward to keep it in place, holding it steady with a smile.</p>
<p>"No, no!" Tubbo continued laughing sweetly, now attempting to take it out of my grasp with a corny grin. "I think a journal would be a great idea! Come on, Tommy, give it to me, it'd be fun."</p>
<p>"Fun?" I raised a brow alongside my ever-growing smirk, yanking the book away so that Tubbo could no longer reach it, holding it an arm's length away. "I thought you couldn't read." Tubbo pouted, shuffling himself so that he was besides me, no longer trying to grab the planner, but still watching it with gleeful eyes that didn't match his face.</p>
<p>"Don't be like, Tommy," Tubbo whined, crossing his arms, and ceasing his intense gazing at the planner, instead choosing to stare at our surroundings, something I found he began doing much more frequently. "And you know what I mean by fun. You already started it anyway; What's the harm?" I huffed again, following his gaze towards the gray, cloudy skies and rugged, choppy terrain.</p>
<p>"Yeah, whatever I guess," I mused, grinning as Tubbo clenched his fists and silently cheered, eyes twinkling with something similar to mischief. "But only after we find someplace for the night, alright?" Tubbo nodded alongside his shrug, smile never wavering as he sighed breathlessly, simply letting himself relax in the midday sun, basking in the heat.</p>
<p>There was silence for a good while, neither of us wanting to admit that we'd have to end our break lest the sun slip beneath the horizon without any progress being made. So we merely stayed quiet, comfortable with each others company and the surprisingly calm waters. Eventually, though, Tubbo did speak, his tone more solemn than before.</p>
<p>"Hey, Tommy?" He asked, not looking away from his view of the blue horizon. I hummed in response, watching the clouds flow quickly away from us, but did turn around to meet his eyes. He seemed so different from three weeks ago, arms littered with scars and still healing scratches, face much or less the same, but the differences weren't just physical. I think something similar changed in me too, but I couldn't quite name it.</p>
<p>"Do you really think we'll be safe there?" His voice was mellow, yet not quite sad, as though he were simply thinking aloud. I swirled my finger slowly in the water, looking away from my friend as I sighed. The question wasn't really that surprising. After all, the same thought ran through my mind frequently as well.</p>
<p>"I don't know," I confessed, bringing my knees in closer to my chest. "But at least we'll be together." That brought a smile to his lips, eyes regaining some of their luster.</p>
<p>"Yeah," Tubbo echoed, holding out their fist for me. "Together." I rolled my eyes, bumping my fist against his, his cheesy antics somehow lightening the dark mood almost instantaneously.</p>
<p>I don't think there would be anyone else I'd rather try to survive the end of the world with.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>
  <em>Entry One</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tubbo saw me writing and wanted to start a journal so I'm going to pretend I'm getting everything they're saying. He talks very fast. He's basically asking me to write a summary of everything that's happened so far, but there's just SO much and most of it's boring anyway. Except for the time I kicked one of those fucking dogs in its goddamn face, that felt pretty good.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Journals are supposed to be recordings, right? Like captains and assassins writing down all their important shit, so I guess that's what I'm doing too. When I'm writing this, it's been three weeks since the end of the world, but we were near Brighton at the time. Not too sure where we are now, but it's about a week's worth away from where ever the hell we used to be. A few days after the first tsunami we found an arcade that was still standing and camped out there for a little over a week.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>PRO TIP: DO NOT TAKE SHELTER IN BUILDINGS. THEY WILL COLLAPSE AND THEY WILL CRUSH YOU</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I can say pro tip, because Tubbo and I got stuck in one during a flash flood. The entire goddamn roof collapsed on top of us and trapped us in the flood. We found an air pocket, but Tubbo got pretty banged up. Part of the roof fell on their leg. It's why he always limps around now, and his wound reopened yesterday right as we were running away from the dogs, so it kind of got worse. That one was totally on me, I was trying to raid the remains of a store and I dragged them along with me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Another pro tip: The dogs also really like stores, especially the meat section. Don't try fighting them either, because they are VICIOUS and will absolutely tear you to shreds in seconds.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We've only seen maybe a dozen or so survivors since everything went to hell, but I don't think any of them saw us. I didn't know just how untrustworthy people could be, but without any laws, they seem to have gone to shit. Me and Tubbo just stay out of their way and hide until they pass, but we're just crashing in this little tent we made in a jacked up field, so it'll be hard to. Not too sure what will happen if we can't, we don't exactly have any weapons except for my vlog knife and this pointy pole we found, but Tubbo's just been using it as a crutch so far.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He's only just now rambling about the arcade. My hands are already starting to hurt from not writing in so long. Not sure if they'll read this, honestly, but they might try. Can't wait to see his face when he realizes I've just been fucking with him this whole time. But y'know what? Writing this journal is kind of fun. I think I'll be doing this more often, but not now. I'm too tired.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Before I go, I just want to make it clear where we're going: We're getting to higher ground, and if anyone besides me or Tubbo read this, I suggest you do the same. It'd be suicide to try and cross to France, and the flash floods just keep getti</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tommy is mean :(</em>
</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>"What the hell man," Tubbo groaned, having yanked the 'journal' out from my hands, taking it into his own to examine. "I was sitting here this entire time just talking to myself!" A huff escaped him, scribbling something in the small book before closing it with a snap, his puppy frown slowly fading back into my smile after watching me double over in small bursts of laughter.</p>
<p>"Stop it," Tubbo said light-heartedly, giving my shoulder a light smack, smiling alongside me as I didn't stop my chuckling. "You sure laugh a lot for living in the "End of the World". Just go to sleep already, man!"</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah, you laugh a lot too," I grumbled, although the smile didn't leave my face as I watched Tubbo open the journal up again to continue to read my messy handwriting, still scanning the pages even after I closed my eyes. "Good night, Tubbo." I eventually mumbled, darkness beginning to overtake me.</p>
<p>"Good night, Tommy," Tubbo replied absentmindedly, completely engrossed in the journal. I smiled right before my mind forced itself to stop for the night, finding myself oddly content for the 'end of the world'.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I Almost Die. Painfully.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Tommy POV</strong>
</p><p>"I spy..." Tubbo drawls, scanning our bland surroundings with intense eyes, as though he'd be able to find something new by sheer force of will. "Something pink!" His tone was cheery enough, though he was clearly forcing it through their hunger, the same as me. A short puff of air left my nose, choosing to follow along and find something pink in the bleary view.</p><p>It took us a day of moving at an abnormally slow pace, but we managed to stumble into another nameless town, famished and impossibly sore from our travels, still somehow sustaining ourselves off the meager supply of granola bars from nearly two days ago. Like the last town, almost all the buildings were collapsed in on themselves and the streets remained flooded, the only noticeable difference being the narrower streets. I glanced around between the buildings, the remaining walls still high enough so that my view was limited to the winding road and deformed entryways.</p><p>"Is it that flag?" I mumbled half-heartedly, pointing towards a pride flag that was submerged in the water, barely visible through the muck. Tubbo sighed, but still smiled as he nodded, a rumble sounding from their famished stomach, reminding me how desperately we were in need of food.</p><p>"Do you think we should go through some cars?" I shoved his side lightly, motioning him to a car leaning precariously on its side, a hard enough shove all it needed to topple over. The rear end was smashed and dented severely, making it impossible to enter through, but perhaps with Tubbo's help I could weasel into the passenger side and raid the glove box. Tubbo merely frowned.</p><p>"I- I don't think that's a good idea, Tommy," They confessed, fingers fumbling nervously with the hem of his shirt, brows furrowed and for some reason, surprisingly tense, eyes flitting about the empty street much more erratically than before.</p><p>"Well, why not?" I grunted, already making my way over to it. Tubbo's hand instinctively reached for my sleeve, holding me in place by his side as he continued scanning the area, now squinting. A tingle ran up my spine as I joined him, not enjoying this sudden shift in demeanor in the slightest.</p><p>"The dents," He muttered under his breath, the water around us stilling and the dirt settling at the bottom. They turned their head sharply to face me, eyes intense and accusatory as he motioned towards the few other cars on the street with his other hand. "They look... Man-made." At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but his words caused me to look closer.</p><p>The dents I had assumed came from falling debris were all clustered, similar in size and shape, with no indication as to what caused it laying nearby. The rubble from the buildings had fallen far enough away from the car that it would've been impossible for it to have caused the great away of damage done to the vehicle. There was mud on its hood, and upon closer inspection, I could see the vague outline of a hand, one that would have been washed away in last nights rain. My eyes widened as my hand fumbled, not particularly caring as I slid my hand down to grab Tubbo's, our grips tightening in each others for some sense of reassurance.</p><p>"We need to hide," I choked, eyes flitting around just as nervously, if not more, as Tubbo's. "Now." Tubbo nodded rapidly, both of us walking on shaky legs as we made a beeline for a small hole in a wall, being careful not to move the frail rocks lest they avalanche on top of us, the knowledge that somebody else was in the area as early as this morning making it a little difficult to breathe.</p><p>Tubbo and I rested in the small nook provided by the collapsed shelter in silence, the only sound being our heartbeats as we stared out into the sunny road. Memories of the first person we encountered flashed vividly in my mind, and surely in Tubbo's as well. We had seen her from afar, delighted in finding another survivor, about to make ourselves known and approach her. I doubt I would ever be able to forget that moment, scenarios of what would have happened had we been but a second sooner with our introduction still able to give me nightmares.</p><p>She kneeled down into the reddened water, grabbing the arm of someone in it. Whether it was a fresh corpse or not, I don't know, but I prayed that it wasn't still alive when she bit into it, tearing the skin and tissue with one merciless clamp of her jaws. I remember the panic we felt as we watched her swallow the large chunk whole and continue to devour the limp body, completely ignoring the plastic bag with groceries in it to her left and the blood that dribbled down her mouth and onto her clothes.</p><p>We ran.</p><p>"We need food, Tommy," Tubbo whispered besides me, hearing the growling of my stomach mimicking his own. His face was pulled into a mix between pity and straight up panic, despite knowing anyone in the area could have very well left by now. I'm sure my face looked similar, but I merely swept my awfully long hair out of my face as I faced the empty, lifeless street again, not so much as a cloud in the sky.</p><p>"Tommy, we're actually starving," They tried again, unsure of whether to make his tone pleading or afraid. "We have to go find something-"</p><p>"I know, I know," I said, trying hard to keep my voice from breaking. "Just- I don't want to risk it, not yet. You're still healing." He smiled sweetly, nodding as he adjusted him so that he could lay in a semi-comfortable position in our bubble without upsetting the walls, staring at the sky out of the hole in silence, either not bothering or not wanting to continue our conversation further.</p><p>"Can you guard if I fall asleep?" Tubbo muttered quietly, and I nodded, his eyes almost immediately shutting close, and after a minute or two passed, I heard light snoring from behind me, but I didn't bother looking at them, still focusing intently on the lack of movement in the street, fingers twitching every time any sort of noise appears.</p><p>The silence soon became deafening to me without Tubbo's company, the paranoia festering in my stomach not enough to keep my hunger at bay, but still prominent enough to keep me rooted to the spot, continuing to watch intently for perhaps another hour, thoughts running wild through my mind. Most were panicked, but as time wore on, they started becoming more pained, remembering the life I had just a mere three weeks ago.</p><p>The theme song I had adopted for myself began passing through my lips, so quiet I myself could barely hear it, but just loud enough that it could serve as a distraction to keep some of those memories at bay, instead choosing to focus on the people themselves.</p><p>Was Techno safe? Did he live on the coast or further inland, or was California like Florida, where the altitude was so low it hardly mattered? A pang nearly suffocated in my chest as I thought of Dream, annoying, yes, but a remarkably good friend. My thoughts fluttered to Wilbur, who I was supposed to met a day after the earthquake, his fate most likely the same as Dream's. I held back tears as more of my friends flooded my mind, my humming stopping.</p><p>Parts of the Netherlands were already nearly submerged. Would Fundy even of had a chance to survive? Wasn't Texas in the Gulf of Mexico? Did that mean Sapnap and Skeppy were alright? I had no idea where Bad even lived, but the thought of something happening to the sweet man was almost more than I could bear. Did A6d live on the coast? Were George, Finn, and the so many others able to survive, or were Tubbo and I simply lucky? A few corpses were visible in the completely still water, features unrecognizable below the surface.</p><p>I choked back a sob, realizing that we probably were.</p><p>Stop it, I thought to myself, wiping away some escaping tears that had gradually pooled during my brief crying. Now is not the time. I commanded myself over and over, fanning myself as I continued my guard over the street, not a soul moving in it ever since we scrambled into this hole to hide in. A brief breeze ruffled a fallen tree's branches that weren't submerged, sending even more chills through my body. I continued to wait, the uneasiness in my stomach growing again, although I was sure it wasn't from the fear that had gripped us an hour prior.</p><p>Suddenly the branches stopped their gentle noise, and glancing back up, I saw that the wind seemed to have stopped, leaving the street to silence once more.</p><p>Well, it was almost silent.</p><p>If I listened intently, I could hear the swishing of water, as though something were passing trough it outside my allowed vision. My hand paused over Tubbo, unsure if they would make a noise should I wake them, the sounds seeming much too delicate and trying much too hard to be soundless to be an animal. It was suddenly difficult to get air into my lungs as I ducked under the hole so as to not be seen, hand shuffling to reach Tubbo's pointy stick. I could feel my knuckles turning white over the handle, but I paid it no mind, my only focus being the gentle sounds of what were definitely footsteps approach.</p><p>I gave Tubbo a gentle shake with my foot, and he thankfully didn't groan as he awoke, merely blinking his eyes open in a groggy manner, moving his mouth to yawn before noticing my completely fear-stricken face. Tubbo's face immediately paled, stopping their shuffling to pause and listen, arms shaking intensely. The footsteps were now louder, the squalshing sound made by the mud hard to hide, so close to our hidey hole that I was sure they would hear if we even breathed.</p><p>Then my stomach grumbled.</p><p>My throat went dry as both my hands quickly brought the pole into a defensive position, Tubbo immediately scrambling for the vlog knife and dented bat in the bag as soon as it became obvious our position had been compromised. The footsteps stopped momentarily before approaching, no longer bothering to hide how loud they were. I tried scrambling myself into a standing position, but my legs were simply too wobbly, my throat too dry to whisper to Tubbo and heart pumping too fast to take a solid breath.</p><p>A figure then loomed down, a head poking in through the hole, proceeding to analyze the two broken figures in the pocket. He seemed to be a large man, face scruffy and full of similar scars to ours, eyes piercing and analytical. He was rather muscular, only a bit taller than myself, and holding a nasty blade, its serrated edge long and clearly meant for outdoor survival, not at all like my vlog knife. His face was turned into an undecipherable line, neither frowning nor smiling as he looked down upon us, nobody moving for about five seconds until Tubbo interrupted the silence.</p><p>"P-Please..." Tubbo breathed, not daring to move under the man's gaze. He looked him over once, then twice, taking in his shaking and sweat before moving on to me, meeting my eyes with a soulless gaze. He did the same to me, eyes lingering on my pole for a second longer than I liked. Maybe it was my paranoia or simply the fear I had gradually allowed to overtake me these past weeks, but when his lips moved into a gentle smirk, I instinctively fumbled to join Tubbo's side, breath heavy and labored.</p><p>"Survival of the fittest," He answered almost excitedly, the lifelessness of his eyes flaring with something both intense and wild, something I could only describe as completely psychotic and mad. His body suddenly scaled the short wall faster than I thought possible, blade rapidly approaching my face.</p><p>I screamed louder and higher than I ever have in my life, bringing my pole up in hopes it would deflect the knife, kicking my legs up so as to push him away, the absolute mania overtaking my body making it difficult to move. Tubbo let out a yelp as well, bringing out the bat as they stood up much too fast for someone with an injured leg, trying to prod the man away before he got to me.</p><p>His body crashed with my pole, his blade narrowly missing my neck as both Tubbo and I simultaneously kicked and batted him away, and as soon as his body was shoved out of the way just enough for me to move, Tubbo grabbed my wrist and simply yanked me into a standing position, fast enough to give me vertigo. I had no time to process this, feeling myself get dragged to the exit and fumbling along. Tubbo managed to jump unceremoniously over the jagged wall and I was soon to follow, had it not been for the sudden tug on one of my legs.</p><p>Tubbo's hold on me quickly slipped away, and I whipped myself around to face the man once again, his looming figure so close to mine, my pole was practically useless. He brought his fist over to my face, blade pointed to that it would pass straight through my brain. In a flash I ducked to the side, and I let a scream rip from my raw throat as it pierced my shoulder, forcefully lodging itself deep within the muscles, the serrated edge weaving through the tissue like it was mere paper.</p><p>"<em>TOMMY!</em>" Tubbo screamed, bat swinging wildly through the hole, finding it hard to aim with shaky arms. The man dodged easily, an undeniable energy filling him as he ripped the knife out of me, a loud gasp that filled my lungs entirely escaped me as the sharp edges caught on my skin, blood spluttering onto his face while I collapsed against a wall, using all my strength to merely stand on my feet and suppress the pain pulsing through my upper body. He grinned at the steady stream that began seeping out from me, turning my shirt an undeniable nasty hue.</p><p>Erratic gasps and panting escaped me as I sobbed, the pain near blinding, consuming me entirely. I spared my chest a glance, seeing a chunk of red skin and muscle on the verge taken out of me and threatening to fall, blood staining my hands, my arms, even a little of the mans face as it left the gaping hole in my shoulder. I immediately regretted it, feeling faint as my eyes snapped back upward. Tubbo charged again, aiming more surely for the man's head, but he simply grabbed the bat, turning the tables almost single-handedly as he shoved it mercilessly into Tubbo's chest.</p><p>Tubbo's eyes widened upon impact, the strength of the bunt forcing the air out of their lungs in a desperate gasp, and I could've sworn I heard something crack. Tubbo's arms flailed wildly, a second hit from his own bat sending him reeling towards the ground, a mortifying scream echoing throughout the street as he landed on his injured leg, which had begun shaking extensively. I wanted to yell his name and rush to their side, but my throat was dry as I instead turned back to the man in horror, now seeming ready to use the bat to bash my head in.</p><p>"Pl-ease," I begged through cries, hardly able to see through both the water and red in my eyes, although I wasn't to sure if it was from spots or simply my blood that had spilled onto everything in sight. "Jus- leave us-" I sucked in air through my raw throat, my head spinning from a blow I hadn't even seen coming. Everything was distorted, and a sick feeling climbed up my esophagus from my stomach, the world going out of focus and leaving a sharp ringing in my ears. It took me a second to even realize I was still conscious.</p><p>The shape of man's lips were moving, and I was vaguely aware he was muttering something, the only part that I heard in clarity being, "My territory." My arm on the side that had been stabbed refused to move, practically useless, my head more a heavy, lead weight than anything else. I let out another pained grunt, helplessly kicking my legs at the man's torso, doing little to no damage as he brought the blade out again, my struggling becoming even more intense.</p><p>"<em>Run</em>," I hissed out with the air I had managed to wring in through my panic, although I wasn't sure if it had been enough for Tubbo to hear. I screamed again, my feeble and frail arm trying desperately to avert his blade to no avail. He brought it down at lightning speed, a scream that wasn't mine ringing through the air.</p><p>My heart stopped. It was right in front of my face, it's shiny, bloody edge the only thing in focus, right between my eyes. I didn't move at all, simply let my body go slack as the knife inched closer and closer, despair crawling through my veins in place of the adrenaline, still not quite accepting that I was going to die. One last sob passed through my lips.</p><p>I didn't want to die.</p><p>There was another scream, too close to be Tubbo's. Was it mine? I was fairly certain it wasn't. The man in front of me crumpled to the ground in a heap, his arms flailing as he slipped on the watery surface below us. Nothing registered in my scrambled head as I watched, only vaguely aware that the blade was no longer threatening to slash my face off. My legs wobbled as I pressed a firm hand on my wound, the squishing sound nauseating and the blood warm and wet. I began huffing, trying to listen over the sound of my racing heart and see through my grogginess.</p><p>Another man was here. He was pinning the first one to the ground, beating him mercilessly until he lay limp, but not nearly enough for him to die. Everything was spinning around me, like a permanent vertigo had overtaken me, his features lost to me. He was large, taller than the last one but not nearly as muscular, blond, shaggy hair tied back. I realized he was approaching me when the green of his clothes seemed closer, holding me upright gently, just as I was about to fall.</p><p>His mouth moved. Was he talking? There was another voice outside, and I reached pathetically towards it, no longer aware of my surrounding, just of my blood and the careful hands that wrapped around me to lift me off the ground. The man was holding me like I was a toddler, carrying me out into the blinding sun, where a figure was waiting.</p><p>"It's okay, Tommy." The voice was far-away, both annoying and soothingly familiar, although its tone was strange. As though they had been crying. I grunted in response, not hearing what they were saying, but appreciating the sense of calm it gave me nonetheless. His hands gripped my good shoulder more tightly, and I swore I heard some sobbing.</p><p>I didn't think about this too much. Everything went black.</p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <strong>Tubbo POV</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Entry 2</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy got really hurt, so he can't really write our journal today, so this is Tubbo! I'm not actually writing this, but we found a friend, and he's writing this for me. [hi tommy :)] Despite the fact that Tommy got stabbed, we think my rib is fractured, and we both nearly died today, we're doing good. I'm going to keep the second one short because Tommy said he wanted to write it, but I'm sure he won't describe what happened accurately, so I'll be doing it instead.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So there were all these strange dents in the cars, so we both lost our shit and hid in a hole in the wall. I don't know how long we stayed there, but Tommy woke me up and there was a guy just right there. We fucking panicked, no joke, because this man was s͟c͟a͟r͟y. ̶U̶n̶d̶e̶r̶l̶i̶n̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶e̶f̶  He was holding a knife and just went ape shit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy actually kicked ass until he got stabbed really bad. He lost a lot of blood, but we're all hoping for the best. That guy pushed me and I landed on my bad leg, so I'm back to using the pole as a crutch. Tommy got hit in the head a couple times and stabbed again, but the guy that's writing this heard our screaming and showed up and saved our lives [say thank you tommy]. We left the guy unconscious in the building.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They're making food now, whic</em>
</p><p>"Wait a second." Dream had been writing intensely and non-stop to keep up with my speech, but suddenly stopped, looking up at me with surprised and startling green eyes. "Neither of you have eaten anything for two days?" I bit my lip and shook my head, still playing with the medical bandage wrapped firmly around my leg. Dream smiled painfully, standing himself up from his makeshift seat to get George.</p><p>The pair had set up a temporary camp in one of the sturdier buildings, that, while had no roof, had all four walls (with varying heights) and enough rubble at the bottom to keep us from getting wet. I expressed me and Tommy's distaste of camping in a building, but neither of them seemed to share my concern, and I didn't have it in me to explain how I got my limp, so I stayed quiet, letting them pull me into the death trap.</p><p>It wasn't very roomy with all the debris, but Dream and George had made it quite cozy, similar to what Tommy and I did. Tommy had been laid on several pillows and a cushion thrown together to resemble a bed, and I had been propped up against a car seat that they'd ripped out of a car, Dream sitting in the other one as he wrote in Tommy's journal, leg slathered in bandages, similar to Tommy's chest.</p><p>There wasn't much else besides the fire in the corner, smoke escaping freely through the open roof, similar to how on our first week me and Tommy started a fire, only to have dogs chase us up the a tree. The pair claimed I had nothing to fear, and while I still disapproved, its warmth eventually became too tempting, and I let myself fall into the comfort of the flames. Dream did promise to stand guard for me though, and George begrudgingly said he'd extinguish it once he was done.</p><p>"George!" Dream basically whined, effectively grabbing George's attention, who had been ignoring us for the better part of the last ten minutes, choosing instead to focus on his cooking. "They haven't eaten for forever! Tubbo's hungry!" George raised his eyebrows, glancing between Tommy and I's thin frames, frowning slightly.</p><p>"I think we have some leftovers from yesterday," He told him, pointing towards the sathcel in the corner. "This won't be ready for another twenty minutes." He gave me a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the dead dog he was cooking with a sort of sadness in his eyes. I looked away, still unsure how I felt about eating the creature.</p><p>"Here," Dream said kindly, dropping the meager remainder of a bag of cereal into my lap, smiling as he watched me slowly unwrap the bag, even though my stomach had started rumbling ferociously and I was pretty sure I was drooling. "You can finish it all if you want." I grinned at him gratefully, hesitant to stuff the cereal in one bite despite my raging hunger.</p><p>"Thank you, Dream," I whispered, fiddling with the opening in the plastic. "Thank you so much." Dream shook his head, smiling softly, but it didn't seem that pitiful to me, not like George's. It was more grateful. I stared at his face, just as battered as mine if not a little more so, still finding it hard to connect it to his familiar voice.</p><p>"Don't worry about it," He told me kindly, turning his attention towards Tommy, and I couldn't quite place his distraught face of pure horror when he first found us out of my mind. "I'm just glad the three of us are alive." Tommy stirred a little in his sleep, muttered something, then calmed down and drifted back into peaceful rest. George chuckled, but did nothing more than readjust his covers.</p><p>He gestured again to the bag of stale cereal with his head, still smiling warmly, his kindness only faltering when Tommy passed out. George had been much the same, although notably more tired and sadder, occasionally glancing at Dream with worried expressions. They worked fluidly, sometimes speechlessly, like Tommy and I, but at the same time, much more confidently, and a hundredfold times more mature.</p><p>I always knew Dream and George were adults, but it never really clicked until now, seeing them in front of me like this. They didn't run and hide like us; They were more than capable of defending themselves. Dream was much taller than me, and much stronger, and despite the exhaustion he must've been feeling after traveling all night with George, he carried Tommy all the way here, keeping pace with my pathetically slow hobble, George letting me lean almost entirely on him the entire way. I hadn't really thought of how much of a child Tommy and I were until now.</p><p>"Oh!" Dream said nothing else when I leapt up and pulled him into the tightest hug I could muster, balancing myself on my one good leg. He  returned it, rubbing my back as I sniffled into his hoodie, probably having no idea what to say, but that didn't really matter to me. I didn't realize how much I missed being able to depend on an adult with Tommy, but now that I did, I almost didn't want to let go, even with my now painful hunger.</p><p>"It's okay, Tubbo," Came George's voice, and I lifted my face out of Dream's hoodie just enough to see the brown-haired man smile at me, cereal in his hand. "You're both going to be safe now, alright?" I nodded, still hugging Dream tightly, sniffling subsiding slightly. Dream patted my head, and I took that as my cue to let him go.</p><p>"Thank you so much," I told them again, and even though Tommy was still nowhere near healed, I couldn't help but feel as though George's words were true.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>heads up: dream and gogy are about two near death experiences away from losing their sht (^^)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Entry Before Everything Goes to Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Tommy POV</strong>
</p>
<p>I was aware I was awake, but instead of opening my eyes, I simply lay there, ignoring all the strange sounds around me as I tried to trick myself into falling back asleep. A strange pressure in my shoulder kept me, though, and I eventually fluttered them open after a minute or two of discomfort, glancing around my surroundings with groggy, half-lidded eyes.</p>
<p>I could see a dark sky, the clouds blocking the dull light of the falling sun, still stuck sometime in the late afternoon. I tilted my head slightly, feeling some sort of cloth below me, a plethora of various pillows cushioning me like a mattress, visible from underneath a thin blanket that covered me entirely. There were walls around me, as though I was in some sort of collapsed building, but I was warm for some reason, much too warm from a mere blanket. There was a crackle to my left, and turning towards it, I saw a crouching figure tending a dying fire.</p>
<p>They didn't seem to have noticed I was awake yet, their back turned towards me, and Tubbo nowhere to be seen. Memories of my fight yesterday resurfaced quickly, and while this new man didn't look even remotely similar to the one before, I couldn't help but stiffen. A pain flared in my shoulder and stomach almost instantaneously, and I winced as I quietly slipped the covers off me, suppressing a gasp as I caught sight of the nasty red that stained a bandage wrapped around my chest.</p>
<p>"You're awake," The figure said, awfully cheerfully, and I might even add... Oddly familiar. "Here you are, Tommy." My fingers reached for one of the many pillows laid beneath me, readying to bash him in the face with it, teeth clenched as I whipped around to face him. My jaw dropped and so did my shitty weapon.</p>
<p>I was rendered utterly speechless. In front of me was a man in his early twenties, fluffy brown hair turned ruffled and greasy, a giant slash across his face that was pulled into a sort of tired yet grateful expression I'd never seen on him before. I made a sort of choking sound and tried raising my arms before wincing, but he seemed to understand, pulling me into a short, gentle hug.</p>
<p>"G-Geo-rge?" I stuttered, throat still raw from all my screaming. I might've still been in a little shock when he pulled away after a few seconds, his eyes tearing up slightly before promptly wiping them away, stiffening his back and pretending as though he hadn't just cried a little.</p>
<p>"Yeah," Was all he said, reaching besides the golden fire to grab some sort of tubberware, its lid cracked but still working well enough, setting it down in front of me. "I know you're hungry. We can talk after you're done." I continued staring at him as he sat down on my bed-like pile besides me, then back down to the small plastic container.</p>
<p>"How...?" I managed, but George only shook his head, gesturing back towards the box,deciding to open it himself eventually. Inside were chunks of meat, poorly cut and small, but there seemed to be enough to fill my famished stomach, and it bean churning and rumbling on cue, causing George to chuckle, still watching me with his sad eyes.</p>
<p>I grabbed one tentatively, eyes flitting between George, the food, and the makeshift door made out of a tarp to my left. None of this was making much sense, all my instincts telling me to find Tubbo and run, but my legs and body were much too tired and sore, and if I was being honest, the familiar face was a welcome sight. My hands shook as I brought it hungrily to my mouth, its hard texture rather hard to chew, but I managed anyway, swallowing the decent food dryly.</p>
<p>"Like it?" George smirked, finally turning his attention away from me and back to the fire. "I made it myself, you know." I didn't think I had the strength to eat the other, but not because I wasn't hungry enough. A sort of nausea came back to me as I scanned the small room for Tubbo, and while I can't say I didn't consider George a friend, it would be hard for me to say I trusted him entirely either. Definitely after my previous experiences these past weeks.</p>
<p>"Where's Tub-" I choked on the dryness of my own throat, George immediately fishing through his belongings, shoving a whiskey flash into my hands, forcing them to my mouth. I resisted at first, but after a few seconds, I felt water slide down my throat, and I ended up chugging the entire thing, gasping from how badly both my stomach and shoulder ached.</p>
<p>"He's safe, don't worry," George said, leaving my side to stick more kindling into the fire, giving it a couple prods until it appeared to no longer be dying. "They'll be back soon, just try and get your strength back while you wait." George was quite shorter than me, but from my perch on the padded floor, he towered over me, but not threateningly, the teasing tone that I'd come to associate with his voice all but gone, replaced with something warmer. It was... Rather comforting.</p>
<p>"Thank you," I muttered, fingertips turning red from touching my blood-stained bandage, the sight of that man's blade seconds away from my face flashing brightly through my mind. "F- For the food and... And saving us." George looked at me and raised an eyebrow, smile back on his face, and I found myself relaxing ever so slightly as I brought a second strip back into my mouth, too hungry to care where it came from.</p>
<p>"You don't have to thank me, Tommy," He said, peering out a small crack in the wall that functioned as a window, smile widening into a relieved, almost blissful one. "But I wasn't the one that saved you, I only patched you up. You should thank him." My muscles tensed up again, watching a light ruffle cause the tarp covering the entryway to move, one not caused by the wind.</p>
<p>Then two figures emerged from the broken-down doorway. One was insanely tall, only a little bigger than myself but clearly older, dirty blond hair scruffy and in severe need of a brush, pulled back into the worst ponytail I had ever seen. He wore a patched-up green hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and ripped black jeans, gold studs in his ears and a few rings on his fingers, hiking boots seeming a little too big for him. His tan face lit up upon seeing me, dark green eyes sparkling and crooked smile widening. It didn't click to me that this stranger most likely saved my life, my attention completely captured by the second, smaller figure besides him.</p>
<p>"Tommy!" Tubbo shouted, dropping his crutch and nearly tripping on their mad dash to get to me, smile wide and eyes bright. Any fear I felt a moment before left as a similar smile overtook me, although a terrible pain did flare up when Tubbo's body crashed into mine, their hug almost unbearable but more than welcome, his grip only tightening around me as though we hadn't seen each other in years.</p>
<p>"Hey Tubbo," I chuckled, wrapping my arms back around him, for now just glad that we were together again. "We're alive." I heard them chuckle softly back, fingers pulling my shirt in his shaky fists. I pushed the dark thoughts of what would've happened to him should this stranger not have appeared out of my mind, instead focusing on the embrace, living the moment.</p>
<p>"I'm so glad you're alright," Tubbo muttered through light sniffling, finally releasing their hold on me when I made a faint grunting sound, apparently realizing he'd been squeezing me on a cut on my arm I hadn't been aware I had. "Sorry, sorry," They continued chuckling, pulling away so that I could breathe once more, lifting a hand to his own chest, wincing slightly. I suddenly became aware that both George and the stranger had been staring at us, the blond man approaching.</p>
<p>"Who the hell are you," I spat at him, with admittedly much more harshness than needed, but I felt compelled to make it a point that yes, while he probably saved my life, we were not friends. His eyes widened in mild surprise, but it broke out into another crooked, almost cheerful grin, Tubbo chuckling quietly besides me. Then his lips opened, and a familiar sound escaped them, similar to that of a kettle.</p>
<p>"Nice to see you too, Tommy." His annoying American accent was strong, and the second it met my ears, my eyes widened, taking a moment to both place it and another to realize it was coming from this man's mouth. "A thank you would've been alright." If George's appearance was shocking, than I don't even know what Dream's was.</p>
<p>"Holy fuck," I ended up saying. It was as though my entire mind had lagged, the sheer strangeness of the situation not fully taking its toll. And then it did. The green bastard himself was in front of me, in England, this was his face, and he had just saved my life.</p>
<p>"HOLY FUCK!" I then proceeded to screech, Tubbo flinching besides me, but giggling again nonetheless. "<em>Dream? </em>But how?" He gave a nervous chuckle but nodded, taking a minute to grab two car seats that had been propped up against a wall to sit closer to me and the fire, motioning for George to do the same. George rolled his eyes but complied, smiling nonetheless while I just watched the tall man in utter silence for a good while.</p>
<p>"We were going to do a sort of vlog of us together for my ten mil," Dream said casually, as though this were a mere simple chat between two neighbors over dinner, crossing his legs as he relaxed. "Georgie was waiting for me to try on his Enchroma glasses, and I came over a couple days before the earthquake so he could hurry and use them." A wistful smile graced George's lips as he stared at the flickering flames, almost longingly.</p>
<p>"They're really pretty," George muttered so quietly I barely heard him, not having given his colorblindness much thought before if I was being honest. I'd been sitting abnormally quietly for too long for my liking. I simply couldn't speak before now, the sheer absurdity of my situation finally mellowing, but I guess it was the way George seemed to be glancing at the fire, as though trying desperately to envision those colors once again that forced my mouth to open.</p>
<p>"My favorite's red." I had simply blurted the first thing that came to mind, not bothering to stop and think if that would only upset him more. But George gave another bittersweet smile, turning his attention back to me.</p>
<p>"Red's really nice," George laughed softly under his breath, picking at his fingers, looking away from me to meet Dream's gaze. "I quite liked purple, though. Purple was... Surprising." He smiled as though recalling some sort of fond memory, Dream laughing as well, clearly remembering the same moment, but neither said more about it, instead turning their attention back to us.</p>
<p>"Are you doing okay, Tommy?" Dream asked, surprisingly warm and concerned after a few seconds. "Do you need anything?" I began to stiffly move my arm to test the waters, gasping quietly almost as soon as my arm tried to lift itself up. Tubbo winced besides me, giving my arm a light pat, as though that would soothe the pain.</p>
<p>"Hurts a bit," I shyly admitted, noticing how both George and Dream's brows furrowed, expressions similar, but for some reason they seemed so different. "I'm good though. Thanks for... For everything." George opened his mouth to speak, but Dream either didn't notice or did it intentionally, George frowning while he stared at him, his light-hearted demeanor from earlier dropping.</p>
<p>"No problem," Dream answered in his stead, getting up from his makeshift seat, smiling as warmly as he could manage, pretending to ignore George's sudden shift. "I- We're just really glad to see you're both. Alive." He hesitated between some of his words, a flash of the expression from before crossing his face before he wiped it away. He tentatively reached one of his large hands over to my head. I flinched and he stopped, hand hanging in the air before starting to retract it back, but not before he reached forward again, giving my hair a light ruffle.</p>
<p>"Pissbaby," I grumbled, fixing my hair, and he ended up bursting into his a wheeze a little different from his usual brash one while Tubbo snickered lightly, George cracking a smile. "God, you're so fucking weird." He hummed softly in agreement, giving me one last look with that strange face from, then promptly sighed, and gave me a reassuring smile, his attention caught by George who was tugging on his sleeve. He stood to whisper something in Dream's ear, watching us both, and Dream's lips pursed, but he ended up nodding a moment after George's lips stopped moving.</p>
<p>"We'll be right back," Dream said with as much cheer as he could muster, leading George outside by the wrist, the smaller man giving us one last glance before slipping out into the street once more. His eyes seemed almost... Conflicted. This left Tubbo and I alone in the sudden silence, the only sound being the crackles made when kindling broke in the flame.</p>
<p>"Just us two again," Tubbo whispered, giving my hand a squeeze with his own, eyeing the door worriedly before looking my frail form over with those wide green eyes of his, and I gave them a proper glance over myself. "I'm so happy you woke up," They said with a smile, burying his face into his knees. "I thought you were going to die."</p>
<p>A memory flashed briefly though my mind as he said those words, the vision of Tubbo pinned down to the ground with a chunk of rock I couldn't possibly move as water begin flooding in over our heads filling me with leftover panic. I took a deep breath, readjusting my hand so that it was over theirs, returning the squeeze.</p>
<p>"We're in this together, remember?" I chuckled, remembering our small conversation from the day before from the field. "I'm not dying anytime soon, and neither are you. We will be alright." I guess I said it with enough confidence to convince him, or at least lift their mood, a small hum escaping Tubbo's lips.</p>
<p>"Yeah, I think we will." I couldn't help but notice how his eyes flitted towards the door, as though searching for Dream and George. "I think we'll be safe now."</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <strong>Dream POV</strong>
</p>
<p>"You've got to be fucking kidding me." I struggled to keep my harsh hiss down to a whisper so that neither Tubbo or Tommy could hear, pressing my body forward. George flinched but stood firm, a heavy breath passing through his lips.</p>
<p>"Dream, we're barely taking care of ourselves!" George retorted, gesturing to the giant scar that ran across almost the entirety of his face, a grim reminder of his statement. "We can't just take them in, they're children, and I'm sorry, but there's just no way we can keep them alive, especially with the shape they're in. We're barely adults ourselves!"</p>
<p>"We can't just leave them!" I snapped back, the spurts of Tommy and Tubbo's blood seeping out of their body's almost too much for me to bear. "George, you saw how they were. They'll die without us!" George's face was contoured into so many emotions, it was hard to choose one to focus on. There was anger, yes, but also fear, pity, and pain. His eyes were narrowed, arms shaking ever so slightly.</p>
<p>"Well, if this keeps up, <em>someone is going to die</em>." He huffed, foreboding tone sending a small shiver down my spine. "We're already starving, Dream, and I personally don't have the strength to keep going like this much longer. I <em>cannot </em>take care-!"</p>
<p>"Then I'll do it myself!" I whisper-shouted back, running my hands through my hair furiously, trying not to look back into the small base to check on the pair. "George, they're our friends, and they're just kids! I won't just ditch them!"</p>
<p>"That's <em>not</em> what I was-" </p>
<p>"<em>Then what, George?</em>" I gripped his shoulders tightly, feeling his bones from underneath my fingers, wincing slightly. "If we don't take care of them, then that's just the same as ditching them. I'm not going to let anyone else I care about hurt." George looked up at me with his small brown eyes, as though trying show me he would not lose his composure.</p>
<p>"I wasn't thinking about ditching them, Dream," He muttered quietly, a little of his anger leaving him, finding disapproval in its place. "They can come along with us, but we can't be looking out for them. I'm sorry, but we've barely managed to survive just the two of us. They'll have to take care of theirselves." We fell into an awkward kind of quiet, scenes from before and after the earthquake alike flashing through my mind.</p>
<p>The last time I'd hugged my family was still fresh in my mind even now, nearly a month later, despite all the other newer, more painful memories taking up space in my head. Like the rush of water through my chest, unable to breathe or control the movement of my own body as I was washed away. Or when I was ambushed in the dead of night, unable to scream as they left me bleeding out on the ground until George woke up to save me, all our food depleted and supplies looted. Even the small, blissful memory of our attempt at a campfire backfiring, the dogs slicing up George's body, his screams echoing in my ears as he helplessly tried to push them away. His face is a daily reminder of how I failed.</p>
<p>I unclenched my fists, taking a deep breath as I met my best friend's eyes, having lost that intensity from the heat of our argument, and I suppose mine did as well. I had promised myself I would never let George get hurt again, no matter the cost. But seeing Tommy and Tubbo like that, nearly stabbed to death and bleeding out in the street- There wasn't a chance in hell I wasn't extending my silent vow to them.</p>
<p>"I just can't, George," I mumbled, voice almost lost to the sound of the wind. George's eyes saddened, as though accepting some sort of fate, but not too surprised by my decision. "I won't let anyone die." He nodded grimly, all his previous anger deflating as he gingerly reached for my hands with his, holding the scarred and calloused fingers with his own.</p>
<p>"I guess you've made up your mind," He chuckled humorlessly, rubbing my knuckles so that some loose dirt fell, revealing some pink underneath. "But... I trust you, Clay." I hadn't even realized he used my real name, just letting the space between us close as he pulled me into a tight hug, letting the silence settle between us once more as we stood still.</p>
<p>I played with his hair, and I felt him play with my hoodie, the fight having drained us both. We simply enjoyed each others company for the time being, one line in particular still ringing in my ears. I pulled him in a little closer, begging that I prove him wrong.</p>
<p>Someone is going to die.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Everything Goes to Hell (Part One)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Tommy POV</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Entry Four</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's been about a week since we've been staying with Dream and George, and so far, we've only nearly died once, which is way better than when me and Tubbo were on our own. Dream has been teaching us self-defense, and I hate to say it, but Tubbo's way better than me, and not just because of my arm. They managed to kick Dream's ass once, and his face when he realized he lost was so fucking priceless.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nothing much has happened if I'm being honest which was why I haven't been writing in this daily like I thought I would. It's sort of fallen into a routine now, which feels rather nice. We've been staying in the same shelter from before, only getting flooded twice and remains standing. Dream and George will go out to hunt a dog or two sometimes, and while we don't starve, we're not that far from going hungry either.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They leave Tubbo and I behind, they say for our injuries, but I'm not too sure if that's the case anymore. Tubbo can keep up with the rest of us now, and while my shoulder still hurts like a bitch, I can move it just fine. It's almost as though they're treating us like children. Dream also seems... Tired. I don't know if he was like this before, but lately he's been falling asleep all the time. George seems tired too, but not nearly as much, and when I asked either of them if something was wrong, Dream told me nothing, but George told me it was Dream's choice. I still don't know what he meant.</em>
</p><p>"Your turn, Tommy!" Dream chirped, having successfully pinned Tubbo to the ground with his foot, earning a groan from the small figure. "Come on, show me what you got!" I smirked, letting both my journal and worrisome thoughts close, instead focusing on the man I've come to view as family this past week. He released Tubbo from his hold, helping them up as he did so, smile bright and wide.</p><p>"I'm going to kick your ass this time, you green bastard," I teased, looking behind his lean figure to see Tubbo, who gave me a wide smile and two thumbs-up, clapping his hands together in a sort of cheer. George rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, giving Dream a sort of half-cheer of his own.</p><p>"You wish," Dream snorted, although his smile didn't falter as he stood his ground, and I followed suit, standing in the stance he taught me. We were both similar height-wise, but he was slightly more muscular, his weight a little more than mine. He chuckled, suddenly sprinting towards me, already nearly upon me.</p><p>He was fast and relatively strong, and I held my arms crossed against my face in preventative defense. A large fist was aimed at my head, and I leaned out of the way, grabbing the incoming fist with my injured arm, and while it sent a spike of pain through my entire right shoulder, I continued, copying the move he used on Tubbo only minutes before. I rushed forward, but he seemed to sense what I was planning, forcing himself to a halt and spinning around with another punch, this time aimed for my stomach.</p><p>It was coming too fast to dodge, so instead of avoiding it, I rushed him as well, grabbing his other arm with my good one, but I underestimated how powerful his blow would be. I choked as his fist connected with my stomach, rendering me breathless as I collapsed in a broken heap on the ground, Dream taunting me by hovering his foot above my chest.</p><p>"Never give me an opening," Dream said after catching the little breath he lost, the constant, daily movement forcing us all to have better stamina. "Always play defense." My eyes narrowed slightly, as I watched him prepare himself for the next round, our roles now switched.</p><p>"I thought you said offence was the best defence," I grumbled, recalling one of our first lessons, where he insisted on this quite adamantly, demonstrating using George. They both ended up with several bruises that day, both too competitive to finish even after proving their point. George ended up surrendering in the end, much to Dream's glee, squeezing both of their fresh bruises in a rib-breaking hug.</p><p>"That was about landing the first hit," He stated casually, taking a swig from his nearby bottle of water. "Just trust me on this one, alright?" I grumbled, but eventually complied, standing in Dream's previous stance. He gestured for me to advance, and I was all too happy to comply.</p><p>Closing the distance between us in mere seconds, I was trying to be careful not to put my shoulder under too much strain. He tried to block me with his arms, aiming his palm so to push my jaw away, but I ducked, rushing to ram him in his stomach. He brought his hands down on me instead, wrapping his arms around me in an improvised choke-hold while I attempted to buck him off. I swept a leg on his shin, losing his firm stance with a yelp, and I threw myself on him using full force. He fumbled momentarily, losing his hold on me in the process, but soon managed to correct himself, tossing me away gracelessly.</p><p>I stayed on my feet, scoffing slightly, disappointed I hadn't managed to land a hit on him, but not all that surprised. My neck remained sore from where he gripped it, and the man himself hadn't suffered any injuries besides my feeble attack on his shins. George snickered, and unfortunately, Tubbo also seemed to be restraining a chuckle, and I stuck my tongue out to them. He merely returned to scratching something out on the back of our briefcase with a mischievous grin.</p><p>"Beating me isn't the only way to win, you know." Came that annoying voice, and I signaled surrender by reaching out for his hand, and he readily accepted, helping me up in one swift movement, ruffling my hair as he let out a quiet, celebratory chuckle.</p><p>"Then how else do I win," I grumbled, giving his side a light punch as I rearranged my hair, sitting down on the car seat I had all but claimed for myself, watching him as he hummed, going to lay on the bed that was currently being occupied by George, much to the latter's dismay.</p><p>"You win if you stay alive," Dream answered vaguely, ignoring George's complaints as he laid his head over his lap and stretched, completely comfortable and at ease. "Run away, and it's still your win." Tubbo and I exchanged a quick glance, both silently reminding each other of where most of our scars came from.</p><p>"But what if they come back?" Tubbo asked for me, continuing his scratching on the briefcase's metallic surface. Dream smiled warmly and kindredly, the same one he gave me from when he returned after his private chat with George on my first day reunited with them.</p><p>"Don't worry about that," Dream said through a quick yawn, our quick battle either have taken too much out of him, or he'd been merely suppressing it until now. "Just come find me. I promise I won't let anything happen to any of you." There was a hitch in my breath as I watched Dream close his eyes, sighing blissfully, snuggling closer to his friend.</p><p>"Oh, don't you <em>dare</em> fall asleep on me, you heavy idiot!" George complained, attempting to shove Dream off him, but Dream merely grumbled something inaudible, wrapping a lengthy arm around his pillow to keep himself in place. "Dream, get off!" George continued groaning, eventually conforming himself to being used as a comforter. Dream opened his eyes open to smirk at him, before promptly closing them once more, falling asleep in mere seconds. George sighed, but decided to not disturb him, instead turning his attention towards us as Dream's chest rose and fell peacefully.</p><p>Nobody said anything for a good while, merely sitting in homely silence. Over the past week, Tubbo and I've come to trust the pair, although we'd be lying if we said we were as close to George as we were to Dream, or at least I would. There was nothing particularly bad about George, quite the contrary, in fact. He was kind to us, treating us like close friends, but he didn't seem to go out of his way for us, not like Dream. Perhaps that was why Dream's seemingly offhand words caused something warm to stir in me, something that felt as though we could finally be safe.</p><p>"Did he..." I choked, fiddling with the cloth of my thankfully dry clothes, something that we've gotten used to living with Dream and George. "Do you think he really meant that?" George cocked his head, as though needing a moment to remember what I was referring to, but the words still clung around me like an echo.</p><p>"Of course he does," George whispered quietly, the sadness of his voice mixing with the softness of his gentle smile as he turned his attention back towards the sleeping figure resting on him. "He's too much of an idiot not to." Dream hummed in his sleep, the soft sound seeming to agree with George.</p><p>"You two should get something to eat," George ended up breaking the serene moment rather quickly, apparently eager to change the subject away from the sleeping man. "I'll keep guard." He carefully dislodged himself out of Dream's grasp, causing him to shuffle slightly, lips moving without any sound in his sleep. George ignored this, draping the loose blanket over him, mouth turned into a stiff line as he grabbed his weapon, a beaten and dulled fire axe, dragging himself out the door, grip white on its handle.</p><p>"Hey, George?" I whispered, extending my hand before he passed to grab his jacket sleeve, and he glanced down at me curiously, eyes softening slightly. There was always something on his mind, and while he tried to hide it, I could see the way he carried a deep worry with him, much like the rest of us. There was a pause as I bit my lip, unsure how to reach out to him, just knowing I wanted to try.</p><p>"Are you alright?" I ended up asking, and his body froze in the doorway, turning his face so that it was partially obscured from me as he gazed outside, almost longingly. His face melted into a bittersweet smile, fingers fiddling with his jacket sleeve again after a moment, the stiffness of his shoulders relaxing slightly.</p><p>"Yeah," He muttered, adjusting his arm out of my grasp. "I think I am." He slipped out the makeshift door, flashing me a reassuring smile before covering it back up, leaving Tubbo and I alone once more, this time accompanied by light snores from besides us.</p><p>The question was a simple one, and hardly ever answered truthfully, especially since the earthquake from a month ago. But seeing George's wistful face and hearing his melancholious voice made it seem as though he had something he looked forward to, even in this hell swamp, and maybe, just maybe, I did too.</p><p>Tubbo had spoken of this to me before, but neither Dream or George said it, so I hadn't given it nearly as much thought as I probably should have. He told me he felt safe with them, that they made them feel at home. I sighed contently, nuzzling myself into my car seat while Tubbo continued to scratch pictures out into our briefcase, finding myself falling into that mindset as well, genuinely believing we could be alright.</p><p>~~~</p><p>"Dream?" George's concerning tone awoke me, and I found myself groggily opening my eyes as I stretched my arms and accidentally cracked some bones, jolting me fully awake. Looking above, I saw the night, the stars just starting to twinkle into light in the sky, the moon just bright enough to illuminate George's panicked face.</p><p>"<em>Dream!</em>" George hissed again, now entering, giving me a light shove as he past to get to Dream, still deep in his slumber. His movement was rushed, breath heavily and mildly erratically, gripping Dream tightly by his shoulders. His eyelids instantly flashed open, automatically trying to sit upright, and would've if George's hold wasn't so strong. Their eyes met, and without any words passing between the pair, Dream gripped his kitchen blades, rushing towards the door still fighting himself to remain awake with the most determined and horrifying face I had seen on him yet.</p><p>My hand reached for my baseball bat, which Dream has since decorated with barbed wire, having jokingly said it felt like a fitting weapon for me. The movement must have caught Dream's eye, as he turned his attention towards me briefly. "<em>Stay</em>," I heard him whisper underneath his breath, eyes wide and panicked, yet unfocused, pace not faltering as he followed George to the door, peeking out through the hole that we had been using as a window.</p><p>Dream cursed quietly, eyes flitting nervously back towards Tubbo and I. His eyes closed momentarily as he took a deep breath, exhaling softly from his nose. He then straightened his spine, erasing as much fear from his face as possible, now an imposing and determined figure. George attempted to do the same, mimicking him in all except his casual grip on his weapon, George's knuckles white from the axe handle.</p><p>They slipped out silently through the curtain-door, and as soon as they were out of sight, I slipped out of my seat, making my way over to the window and Tubbo, who was still snoring contently, arm most likely asleep from their awkward position. My heart was thrumming in my chest, anxiety slowly crawling its way up my chest, fingers curled tightly around the small ledge from the hole to support myself.</p><p>"Oh Jesus Christ." The words tumbled out from my mouth before I could stop them, and I think I nearly fell as my heartbeat began pounding throughout my body, deafening me. My hands slipped and I lost my balance, all emotions other than pure, unadulterated fear overtaking me while my body shook pathetically. Everything turned stiff, the air suddenly suffocating as I collapsed onto Tubbo, who woke up with a startled yelp, but I didn't pay much attention to his distress, only able to focus on mine.</p><p>There were people outside, approaching our hideout. Perhaps half a dozen, or was that just my vision deceiving me? The shin-high water reflected and parted around them, as though clearing a path, their pleased and twisted grins visible in the low moon-light. All held similar serrated weapons, standing close and comfortably around each other, trying to stand as large as possible to intimidate the two lone men by the doorway.</p><p>Tubbo was now pulling me up, a flash from their hand revealing they were preparing for a fight. I glanced up from my shuddering, seeing the determined face above me, although from how his hands were shaking, it was clear he was suppressing his own fear, just like how Dream and George were doing. A hand gripped mine reassuringly, and I slowed my breathing, focusing on Tubbo's steady, resilient eyes. I was still scared shitless, but my teeth grit and I gripped my own weapon tighter, forcing my nerves down, if not just temporarily as Tubbo helped me stand.</p><p>"What do you want." Dream's snarl reached the hideout, and I peaked out once more, his tiredness and frailty hidden my the same light that emphasized his tall, lean build. His accent seemed to surprise the strangers, but they brushed it off quickly, standing to imitate his imposing stance.</p><p>"You're in our territory," The evident leader said from the front, separating herself from the crowd, nearly as tall as, if not the same height as Dream. "You've been hunting our food in our territory for weeks now, and almost killed one of our own. We can't let that slide." I couldn't stop my body from freezing once more, a vivid, intrusive memory worming itself into my mind.</p><p>
  <em>Everything was distorted, and a sick feeling climbed up my esophagus from my stomach, the world going out of focus and leaving a sharp ringing in my ears. It took me a second to even realize I was still conscious. The shape of man's lips were moving, and I was vaguely aware he was muttering something, the only part that I heard in clarity being, "My territory."</em>
</p><p>Tubbo tried to suppress a squeaking sound besides me and stiffened his body, whereas I felt like collapsing once more. I continued struggling to stand upright, jaw clenched as I forced myself to stay strong, my shoulder suddenly flaring in absolute agony, the ghost pain feeling so real I nearly screamed. My mind kept darting back and forth between curling up on the floor and stopping my shaking, but I found myself unable to choose, instead merely holding back tears while Tubbo tried to silently console me.</p><p>"I wasn't aware anything was claimed," Dream continued, unknowing of the sickness and nausea creeping through my veins, lowering his weapon slightly, George copying and doing the same. "And as I recall, your '<em>own</em>' was trying to kill one of mine. Leaving him alive was more than gracious." Someone in the pack snarled at him, but Dream seemed undisturbed, standing firm.</p><p>"Doesn't change the fact you've been taking our dogs," The leader continued, her foot, which had been steadily planted before, took a confident step forward, and Dream and George's weapons instantly drawing once more, despite knowing full well they were no match against them.</p><p>"Listen lady," Dream bit back, his rough and deep tone replacing the mildly diplomatic one he'd been using. "We didn't know about your claim, and we're sorry 'bout that. We can take our stuff and never come back if you want. There's no need to fight." A crooked, malicious grin crawled onto the lady's face, sharp features accented by the silver light making her appear all the more otherworldly.</p><p>"Oh?" Her quaint voice quickly grew into an animalistic one, much like how the man from a week prior's had. "But I want to." The words had barely passed through her lips and the pack was rushing forward, the outcome of the five vs. two's battle already determined, even before the first blow was landed.</p><p>"<em>Move!</em>" My words were barely able to form through my erratic breathing, instinctually grabbing Tubbo as we both fled out the door, weapons in hand. I was afraid the grip on mine would come loose from all I was sweating, but instead, I felt my senses heighten as they took in the scene before me, everything moving impossibly fast after the few moments me and Tubbo had missed.</p><p>Dream was already getting assaulted by the leader, another only two seconds away from joining, although they were both significantly smaller than him, and one not nearly as strong. He seemed to be holding his ground, and might I add, winning, the muscular woman having trouble dodging his longer twin blades. George had been standing behind him when I had last checked, but was now guarding his back, swinging his axe wildly at the other two members, their knives too short to attack without getting hit full force with George's merciless swings, and they seemed to have no replacements, making them unable to throw them.</p><p>Both sides were grunting, and occasional hisses of pain could be heard and flashes of red could be seen. The second enemy had joined the first to pounce on Dream, but he was fending himself off decently enough, no longer trying to attack, focusing instead on defence, just like he had taught me. He screamed through clenched teeth as one of their blades sliced through the back of his forearm, blood spurting in a grotesque surge, staining both his hoodie and the reddening the water below him.</p><p>He pushed through it with a howl, opening himself momentarily as he went to kick the smaller of the pair in her chest, screaming through another blow as she sliced through his leg like it was mere paper. She clattered to the ground, Dream moving forward with his bloodied and mutilated leg, George noticing and following behind him to cover his back, kicking her weapon out of her hand before either her or her partner could make a move, pining her to the ground by stomping mercilessly on her throat, leaving Dream with a one vs. one.</p><p>George's opponents, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten used to his attack patterns, and he wasn't having nearly as much success. He swung too wide towards an advancing man, the other taking it as an opportunity to weave to the side and slice his exposed side, a chilling shrill shriek passing through his body, echoing across the ruined walls and corpse-riddled streets. This seemed to shock the man just enough for George to finally land a blow, one of the most pained screams I'd heard in my life echoing just after George's, the axe's edge sweeping right through his arm and into his ribs. I did not look at it further, the sheer horror on George's face at his own actions more than enough than what I could stomach.</p><p>Dream and George were both bleeding severely, only two of their enemies incapacitated, the other two already familiar with their style and adjusting accordingly, but most importantly, remained uninjured. Dream was forced to remain standing on a severely injured and painful leg while his other was being scratched and clawed at by the woman trapped underneath it, his non-dominant arm weak from blood loss. George's waist was simply pouring blood, the crimson liquid trailing all the way down his leg, turning the water around him unable to reflect the moonlight, and while he tried to push through it, it seemed much too deep for him to continue this much longer.</p><p>This had all happened within a matter of seconds, Tubbo and I still running out from our once-safe shelter, one question just now forming in my mind: But wasn't there a fifth as well?</p><p>Something glinted precariously close to my face, so cold and familiar. My sickening screams pierced through the night, the panic I'd worked so hard to suppress returning almost instantaneously as something wet and warm gushed out from a large gash across my chest, the hold on my heavy bat faltering, just barely managing to avoid it clattering to the ground. Tubbo screamed besides me, rushing the tall, familiar man with a swing from their sharpened pole as he stepped between us.</p><p>The memory was coming back, the blood spilling out of me like a fountain and the pain tearing through my chest too vivid and clear. I continued sputtering and gasping as my hands found themselves doused a horrific shade, unable to scream through my own choked cries. My body trembled, exactly what I'd feared coming to pass, and I glanced up, Tubbo moments from being slaughtered right in front of my eyes.</p><p>I suppose the only thing worse than my blood rapidly gurgling from my body in disgusting spurts was the image of something worse happening to Tubbo in my mind. My body moved on its own, the agony not in any way dulled as I stepped forward with my bat, holding it just as Dream taught me.</p><p>But I guess it wasn't enough, because that same smirk from my nightmares smirked again, slashing me again across my arm, this time going deep enough to get me seeing spots. I managed to stay upright, but the same couldn't be said to Tubbo, who was brutally kicked in the chest, his pole too long to defend properly. He was flung mercilessly away, heaving and retching as they landed on something that made a definite cracking sound ring from their body, a scream soon following. My heart pangs for him, the pain worse than the tear across the entirety of my chest.</p><p>I am too weak to save my friend.</p><p>I heard another, pathetic scream, too painful to describe fully. It sounded like desperation, heartbreak, disbelief, begging, and death all at the same time. Like a soul being ripped out from a body, its final words needing to be heard: "<em>DREAM!</em>"</p><p>And then there he was, standing between me and the man, just like last time. He'd come to our rescue, twin blades keeping pace with his despite his injured arm and leg, gritting his teeth through his agony, focusing only on the man in front of him. Dream let one of the blades soar, lodging itself firmly in the man's throat, blood coughed onto his face and body as the man collapsed into a heap.</p><p>"Dream..." Came the same voice that screamed, much weaker from before. Dream's head whipped around, and from one moment to the next everything changed.</p><p>George's entire body was shivering, eyes unfocused as he reached pathetically towards the green figure in front of him. His axe was lying uselessly on the ground, the several knives skewering his body no longer silver, but instead, glistening with fresh blood. His chest heaved, and with one last fitful breath, George's eyes glazed over, and his body dropped lifelessly to the ground.</p><p>Just another carcass in the swamp.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Everything Goes to Hell (Part Two)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: There will be heavy gore and insanity in this chapter. Remember when I said Dream and Gogy were two near death experiences away from losing their sht?</p><p>Also! Gogy was screaming for dream in the last chapter!! Not tommy!! Sorry for the confusion (^^)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Dream POV</b>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone is going to die.</em>
</p><p>Warm breath passed from my lips as George's voice, once so melodious and sweet, now haunting and horrific as it thrashed mercilessly against my ears, consuming my being entirely. The sheer and utter despair on his face as his body was peppered with blades, his limp body dousing the moon-lit streets in nightmarish mutilation alongside the vivid, unnatural blood that poured from his frail body. He lay absolutely still, eyes still reaching out for me silently through their anguished lifelessness.</p><p>The water around my ankles suddenly chilled my entire body, reaching all the way up to my eyes, forcing myself to observe him in frightening clarity, all the way from the way his mouth was still twisted into a wail to how his hair rested against his rigid face. My stomach felt like retching itself through a bloody esophagus, my ribs suddenly too tight for my lungs as they struggled for breath. A pain like nothing I'd ever felt before ravaged my body from the inside out, but my vocal cords refused to scream, holding it all in as my body shook ferociously.</p><p>I promised I'd keep him safe, that no matter what, I would protect him, even if it meant sacrificing my own life. But here I am, alive, and George's corpse sunken in the stained water.</p><p>There was a child besides me. Its blond hair was almost long enough to cover its eyes, but not quite enough to hide the dismay in them, clothes tattered in an X-shape across the chest, where blood was flowing freely out of, dribbling down its body and down into the murk below in grotesque spurts and gurgles. There were so many emotions on such a young face, and I recognized only a handful of them, because they were the same resonating within me at the moment, the rest blocked out by the incomparable amount of guilt racking my soul.</p><p>We were supposed to protect each other, defending each other's vulnerabilities with something I cared for more than anything in the world: Trust. George told me I couldn't protect both ourselves and the child in front of me, he told me, told me, told me, <em>told me so many times</em>, and I simply didn't listen, saving it anyway, at the expense of the most precious thing I had left. My treasured friend remained silent, eyes still following me, betrayed and hopeless.</p><p>Another, darker-haired child struggled to make its way back up to a standing position, a nasty gash releasing the crimson I'd become too familiar with down a rasped cheek, starting to pool on its neck, face contorted into an agonized wince as it clutched its upper arm in a fitful grasp. Then it saw my George, and another type of pain joined its physical one, body swaying as tears fell down, joining the blood in an appalling mixture.</p><p><em>I trust you, Clay</em>. His voice continued whispering in my ear, and my arm twitched, and suddenly, I felt something slip away.</p><p>There was a completely feral, soul-splitting scream as someone moved, their body overcome with so much rage and utter torment that it couldn't stop shaking, the sounds of affliction in their soul piercing through the night. George's last, desperate plea for me was still wrenching my innards, only a fraction of his suffering reaching my ears before he was brutally massacred in front of me. And the culprits were still standing, still breathing their undeserving air, whereas George's lungs lay motionless, face forever cursed to never smile again.</p><p>Maybe that was why they suddenly moved which such purpose, knives gripped so tightly in their enraged hands that their knuckles were close to popping, sprinting towards the remaining three enemies in such an urgent haste it was hard to tell when their feet hit the ground. The only thing certain was that they were out for blood. <em>All the blood they have</em>.</p><p>The pair that remained standing were making advances towards the children, their leader still recovering, the last two mortally wounded. Their features were accented by the spectral light cast down upon them, as though guiding the deranged, almost bestial man towards his prey, whose execution was soon to be followed.</p><p>The larger of the pair prepared himself, standing firm with his weapon drawn, his partner soon following. All the hairs on my body stood on edge, wanting nothing more than to pepper the streets a filthy crimson. The eyes of the man widened just enough to see my own figure reflected in them by a vindictive glow, but something was off. In that split second before our bodies connected and I tore his body apart like it was peanut brittle, I saw something purely animalistic.</p><p>I didn't particularly care.</p><p>There were more screams as fingers made their way around his throat, his body on the ground and littered with slice marks from my blade, the steady streams that were already pouring freely from the deep cuts in his muscles and flesh joining with the ones caused when the hands finally secured their spot, ripping into the delicate flesh with demoniacal glee. The man could hardly scream any longer as hands played with the innards of his esophagus and muscle, any sickening sounds he would've made lost to the splutter and gurgling of blood that spilt from his mouth like over-boiling water.</p><p>The ever-growing scarlet cascade captivated me as the figure ripped something out of him. It didn't necessarily matter what, just so long as his body writhed below me, another shriek of misery washing over the scene as his limbs stopped their struggling and a glaze finally covered the suffering in his eyes.</p><p>Something was moving behind me, rapid footsteps that pattered against the ground like a morbid rhythm known only to me. My eyes met with that of the last lady, her breath rugged and rough but surprisingly steady, holding an axe. <em>George's axe</em>. My gaze flitted over to the limp figure that continued hollowly staring, lips moving harrowingly slowly as his voice whispered to me in my ear. It didn't matter if it was encouraging or not. Everything trembled as I grit my teeth, ignoring all the sounds, sights, and aches that the night brought, focusing only on the lithe figure's now-sealed fate.</p><p>I wanted to see her blood spilled just like the man's, and the figure happily obliged, moving swiftly to execute the sheer wrath that was quickly becoming too much for my desolated chest, letting it unleash in a monstrous sweep. She swung George's axe too high with a primal howl, and I quickly followed with my own, the hatred in her eyes suddenly manifesting into pure unadulterated fear, causing my chest to go into another frenzy, my pulse nearly suffocating me itself while the turbulence in my mind only continued to grow.</p><p>A body crashed into her own, knocking the weapon aside as her desperate pleas and screams filled the streets, the murky water around her making it hard to tell where he blood ended and the swamp began. She was nearly loud enough to drown out George.</p><p>Nearly.</p><p>My knife was back in their grasp, and with aimless and ungraceful strikes, there was soon a ghoulish recreation of George's final moments in my sight. The blade weaved its way through every surface it could manage, even slicing off some fingers in its savage rush, leaving her head and throat for last so that her sickly screams could continue drowning out the ceaseless thrumming and static consuming my nerves, as well as the much quieter voice desperate to be heard. With every yank of a hand, there was a spew of blood that arced onto the figure's body, dousing everything crimson before the blade dug its way its way into her flesh yet again, tearing through the necessary bones and organs to see the satisfying fountain once more.</p><p>Soon though, the blood stopped gurgling and spewing as hoped, and I realized her screaming had ceased long ago. Eveything paused, just for a second, allowing me a moment of silence. I used it to take a deep breath, doing little to help with the turmoil quickly taking a hold of me. The rush of vengeance I had been searching for to replace the dangerous thoughts was quickly losing its high and left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, the crushing weight of how I was supposed to <em>protect </em>George weaving a sick, twisted feeling into my veins. It just all hurt <em>so much</em>, and I was quickly finding there was little I could do. My body faltered as I try to stand, vertigo worsening as I glanced around, too incoherent to do much else except listen to the quiet hum of a friendly voice behind me. But then I stiffened.</p><p>There were still people standing. A quick flicker to the soon-to-be rotted corpse highlighted by a celestial halo reignited the figure's vigor. My vigor? Yes, it was most definitely mine. The cracks in my soul soon became engulfed with primal rage once more as everything began shaking again, desperately trying to push all the intrusive memories of George's voice, George's smile, George's laugh, George's <em>everything </em>away, allowing the instinctual urges to consume me once again.</p><p>"D-Dream-?" One of them muttered before I silenced him by knocking him to the ground, just like how I did to the other two. My knife lay discarded in the murk, the water too blood-stained to try and retrieve it, but I found I didn't need it, my instincts practically begging my to pop his blue, panic-riddled eyes right out of their sockets.</p><p>I was all too eager to comply, ready to bring as much pain onto him as George did in his final moments, all too aware that <em>his </em>survival was at the cost of my companion. One of my twitching thumbs found a home on a blood-shot, brilliant blue eye, the light reflecting off it enough to highlight the pure <em>fear </em>radiating in them, sending short thrills through me as I pressed down. George continued humming his disappointed tune over the sound of primal screaming.</p><p>The second shouted something besides me, rushing towards us with loot strapped to his back, but being much too slow to do much from this distance. My undivided attention returned to the small boy in front of me, taking in his every detail before he was bathed in that fantastical red. My fingers began twitching yet again, itching to rip the staining bandage around his chest off and flaying his skin right off using the already-present tear, but some strange thought tried to pry its way into my head, something my grief-stricken state couldn't handle just yet.</p><p>"Dream," He choked again, his tone too emotional too fully comprehend at the moment. Our eyes met as I was snapped back into partial reality, George's breath cold as he mumbled something inconceivable in my ear. "It's me..." Blood was leaking all over him, the vile shade dotting his face and body like grisly freckles as it dripped off my soaked clothing and numb wounds, either the stench or sight causing his frail body to weep.</p><p>The thought I'd been trying to suppress suddenly snapped with a sharp hiss, my eyes briefly fluttering closed as it replayed in my mind like a sick song. It was this boy, the same one in front of me. There was another, the brown-haired one, and... George. George's inaudible mumblings soon came into momentary clarity, his face right in front of my own. His brown hair was filthy and tangled, skin scarred and covered in grim, but the smile on his face was unwavering as his big, brown eyes watched me with, amused, giving me teasing cheers as I prepared to fight against the blond boy below me.</p><p>My breath became raggedy and my vision blurred, his voice still whispering to me, stubbornly and insistently to me, both encouragingly and displeased at once. Everything felt heavy, but the warmth of my last happy memory with George stayed, calming the quivering in my hands slightly. This boy was in the memory as well. Air became hard to push into my lungs. Was George friends with this boy? The boy went out of focus. Did George want him dead...?</p><p>There was a shout close by, a sudden pain riveting through my head, finally letting me rest from all my perturbed emotions.</p><p><em>I trusted you, Clay</em>, He whispered again, a sigh escaping his lips as everything became dark.</p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <b>Tommy POV</b>
</p><p>"<em>GET OFF HIM!</em>" Tubbo shrieked, and with a sickening crack, Dream's eyes rolled into his head and his feral figure fell limp, collapsing into the ankle-deep water, a small trail of blood trickling down from his injured head. He whimpered and a large tremor shook his body, but fell silent, allowing unconsciousness to take its hold on him.</p><p>The night finally settled down into a sort of mellow, serene air to it, the silence that had fell on us so surreal compared to the tortured wails from moments prior. I listened to Tubbo and I's labored breaths that had filled the street, now the only indication of life after the bloodbath that had occurred alongside the bizarre sound of Dream's snoring, oddly reminiscent of just a few hours prior, when George had still been alive. A hiccup bubbled to my throat as I stared at his eerie corpse.</p><p>I'd seen several cadavers in the past month, but none stung as much as seeing George's unrotted, clearly visible and passionate features reflecting on the water's surface, the horrific surface of the blood covering the glint of the shiny blade beneath. To me, his face looked just how his scream sounded, still contoured into his expressive features, even after death. Chills slithered down my spine as I recalled his horrid pleads for Dream.</p><p>His brows were furrowed in disbelief and despair, eyes pleading as though still hoping to be saved through their unfocused, half-lidded gaze staring into the abyss. He lay on his side, the tips of his short, brown hair being gently lapped by the feeble waves in the water, arm outstretched towards where Dream had stood, the feeling of betrayal still evident even though he had no more breath to express such an emotion. Something stirred in my gut, desperate to be thrown up.</p><p>I guess the rush of panic and adrenaline from the battle had begun to wear off, because I was left with a sort of shocked, hollow feeling, or perhaps that was merely the result of having the figure I had begun to see as our protector pounce on me and try to rip my eyes out of their sockets like an animal, but I wasn't ruling out the possibility of having my chest sliced open either. Exhaustion racked me, leaving me both physically and emotionally drained, wishing I could do nothing more than simply <em>rest </em>and have all these overbearing thoughts vanish.</p><p>Tubbo stood above me silently, granting me a moment of much needed serenity. The loot that they'd rushed to grab from the makeshift base weighed heavily against his back, the bandages he'd wrapped haphazardly against my still-bleeding chest in his rush to escape probably needing a redo, but neither of us said anything of it. They glanced at the eye that had been pressed against worriedly, but I paid it no mind, seeing as how the only reminder of the events from moments before were hardly attention-worthy specks in my vision, too wrapped up in other thoughts.</p><p>"We need to go," Tubbo murmured in the most hushed of tones after a small moment, reaching out their hand for me to grab. "This place... wasn't safe." I looked up to meet his gaze, and while I'm not sure out expressions were the same, they most certainly didn't differ much. His eyes were full of an intangible sadness, lips pursed as though holding something back, worry and harshness alike lining his brow.</p><p>"But..." My argument faltered as my gaze drifted back once again to the blood-riddled street, six new mutilated and grotesque remains added to the devastation. My attention drifted back to the limp figure besides me, hardly a spot on him not drenched from the massacre. I unintentionally flinched, immediately looking away to the comforting sight of Tubbo.</p><p>"Let's go," I whispered to them, the pain from the frayed nerves in my chest, while not having died down significantly, wasn't too hindering, the injury itself not as deep as I had expected. Tubbo assisted me onto shaking legs, and I took several deep breaths to calm them down, either surprisingly numb or surprisingly sleepy from the encounter.</p><p>I knew I should feel much more grief over George, but there were too many other feelings fluttering through my being for me too fully comprehend everything that just happened. My friend had just been slaughtered in front of me, and another had, simply put, just lost his fucking shit, a type of pain I hadn't known existed overtaking him as he went on a massacre. There was a lot of death in the hell swamp, but I had never seen anyone be murdered in front of me, let alone so brutally. It sent a jittery tenseness through my bones, as though still stuck in the moment.</p><p>I squeezed Tubbo's hand, and they squeezed back, our silent way of comforting each other, as we ventured out on our own once more, marching through the sicking metallic scent, our feet moving in sync, eyes never daring to look back at the once-safe haven.</p><p>We hardly got far, just about to where George's bloodied and maimed body lay, when we heard a harsh croak, similar to a gasp. My breath hitched and Tubbo's reached his free arm instinctively to grab their sharpened pole, but let out a sharp hiss of pain when it moved, huddling closer to me instead, farther away from the source of the sound.</p><p>It made a chuckling sound through its pained wheezes, desperate for air, and looking down, I saw the leader. Her black hair was spilled onto the ground in a tangled heap around her, most of it lost in the water, face sunken and a nasty boot impression on her throat, and it seemed to me as though it were indented as well. Her expression remained cold and sharp, pitiless as she glanced up at us. She said no words, only continued her huffing.</p><p>I don't know what compelled me to do it, really, and I couldn't really describe my thought process either. I think the issue was I didn't have one, only scattered emotions that had managed to seep through my shock. My hands moved on their own, gently grabbing the pole out from Tubbo's pack, and he tilted his head at me for a moment, letting me slip my hand out of his grip.</p><p>I took a deep breath as my quaking hands fumbled with the pole. Flashes of someone I trusted most losing all sense of humanity passed through my mind, lingering there for some time as I steadied the pole into an ideal position. Her body stiffened, yet her eyes remained still, almost daring me to go through with the deed.</p><p>Everything felt too little and too much as I drove the sharp end home in her chest, her pathetic gasping sounds returning with much more frightening intensity. Tubbo said nothing of it as blood began seeping out of the wound, my own appalled breathing saying all that needed to be said. They looked at her with a mix between sadness and disgust, using his good arm to softly pull his favored weapon out from her now-still body. The gaze in her eyes remained.</p><p>Our hands linked together once more, and I spared my friends one last melancholic glance: One dead, the other mad, both their pathetic forms slack in the swamp. The illusion of safety that had been unknowingly built around Tubbo and I for the past week shattered almost instantaneously, the almost brotherly care that we'd become dependent on stripped away and turned against us. We could only count on ourselves.</p><p>If I hadn't changed before, the murder of the gang's leader most certainly confirmed it. A murder I had committed. Everything had changed around us, and now we were too. Perhaps not as drastically as Dream, but of course, that begged the question: But what would it take for the same to happen to me?</p><p>I squeezed Tubbo's hand. Tubbo squeezed back.</p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <b>??? POV - Ten Months After The Earthquake<br/></b>
</p><p>So George was dead.</p><p>The rough surface of the worn journal closed under my gentle touch, my gaze shifting from the taring pages towards the street below, my perch ideal for envisioning the harrowing scene just described. I was settled on a rough pile from a demolished building, precarious yes, but oddly fitting and satisfying.</p><p>If I was being honest, I liked George. I hadn't known him exceptionally well, but he was a friend nonetheless, and certainly did not deserve the fate he was handed. And Dream... Out of all the horrible things this world had gifted me, after reading of him through Tommy's journal, I thought Dream was one of the few things that it couldn't touch. I suppose I was wrong, as I usually was, and I let myself linger on thoughts of my own sanity for a tad longer than I probably should have.</p><p>A familiar song passed through my pressed lips, the small comfort the humming provided helping dull the pain of a memory from what seemed like yesterday, but in reality, probably happened at much the same time as the massacre I just read. I gazed up at the stars, adding George to the list of souls I had to grieve, and while I had no knowledge of Dream's survival or not, I grieved for him too, as he was certainly no longer the same kind man I had once known.</p><p>I was tempted to sleep there on the pile of rocks, if for no other reason than to be closer to the stars. My companion loved sleeping outside on those rare, blissful nights like this. My eyes closed as I hummed a little softer, for now just thankful I found a lead to some of my friends, and if the vast number of pages full of scribble were any indication, I would have several more. A finger scratched the journal's surface, and I smiled gratefully, recalling a line Tommy had used in that last entry:</p><p>
  <em>It's just me and Tubbo again, still together.</em>
</p><p>The rhythm of the tune broke, and I decided that I no longer gave a damn and nestled myself into the most comfortable position I could muster, the long trek towards England taking its toll again tonight. My eyes fluttered closed, and I allowed myself the smallest hope that the pair remained together, unlike my partner and I.</p><p>I'd been following Tommy's advice, but I suppose he had directed it towards those on the island. It hardly mattered, because I was drawing nearer every day, and while the chance was slim, it was the only goal I had for a long time. I was going to find them, the both of them, and finally find some source of happiness ever since my partner's death.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Bonus: Sapnap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This book is split into three parts, and the last chapter was the end of the first part! The parts aren't really all that significant, but there'll be a short bonus chapter between to separate them of people that wouldn't appear in the story otherwise. Enjoy!</p><p>Warning: Guns</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Sapnap POV - Same Time As Last Chapter</b>
</p><p>Everything ached, but I kept running. Dawn was about to break, and I couldn't risk being seen when the sun's light washed over. The shoulder-high water was so high I suppose I was more swimming than running, or at least doing a strange sort of hobble as I pushed the murky water out of my path. My foot met with something soft, and every nerve in my body shuddered, followed by a soft string of curses. I grit my teeth and continued onward, silently begging that I don't accidentally step on something... Or someone else.</p><p>In the soft glow that the pale moonlight cast, the subtle silhouette of a seemingly stable-enough, only partially collapsed building peeked out from the swampy water. My pace slowed so that the sounds that I made when passing through the water fell silent, now not even daring to breathe too loud, despite how my lungs wanted to practically gasp for air.</p><p>Simply put, I was in a terrible spot. I stood in the middle of a street, which, in hindsight, was a shitty idea, since when the sun rose in what had to be less than a minute, I would be more than exposed. The building was an issue as well. Any half-witted moron within a five mile radius would have most likely found it by now, the structure almost too perfect for a base. I was not in any way prepared to take on a gang, not in the state I was in now.</p><p>Curses rang through my head as I began to soundlessly waddle slowly through the icy water towards the closest rubble, deciding that this was most likely the safest option. Not necessarily the most fun or in any way not dangerous, just the one that involved the least possible chances of fighting a possible gang. I'd only managed to move a few yards before movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention.</p><p>As soon as they came into view, I took a quick breath and dunked myself into the water, pushing myself through the murk as fast as I could without disturbing the surface, silently praying that they hadn't seen me. There was most certainly a gang hiding in there, and while I had only seen what was most likely a guard, there were certainly many more hidden inside, ready to take down a stray like me for meager supplies in an instant.</p><p>Little of the newly-arrived light broke through into the water, and it was only when my outstretched hand crashed into something vaguely concrete-like did I realize I had achieved my goal. I didn't dare feel safe just yet, not with a gang so close by. Even if I stayed out of sight without making a sound, it was like they were able to sniff out strays like wolves. All I could do was sit still and pray that they were either stupid or distracted.</p><p>Nearly at my limit, I pulled myself to the remaining far wall of the demolished building, pulling myself out to splutter for breath behind the meager protection, for now just thankful it was enough to cover me from the guard. Dawn had finally arrived, showering everything with its golden rays, that while beautiful, all but trapped me in the middle of the street.</p><p>There was shouting from behind me, although I couldn't discern whether that was from the guard having located me or just their usual hollering, but I remained ready to submerge myself once more should they draw closer. My breathing was forcibly slow, my hands shaking as I lay in wait, no matter how much I tried to force calm into myself. I ended up leaning my head against the building, the rest of my body still submerged in the murk, too drained and helpless to do much more</p><p>How the hell did I even end up like this? My clammy hands found a spot to rest in a nook in the wall behind me, my eyes fluttering closed briefly, leaving me alone with my thoughts for a few moments. Flashes of floods and guns passed quickly behind my shut lids, the scars left behind from them somehow less vivid than the memories themselves. Or perhaps that was simply the loneliness beginning to consume me. The last conversation I had with someone that didn't want to kill me... I could hardly remember.</p><p>A small squeak escaped my lips as I was suddenly jolted out of my thoughts by the cracking sound of a gunshot ringing through the air, my body stiffening. I pressed myself further against the wall, sinking myself in slightly, gripping my own weapon's handle underneath the surface, that while most likely useless in a gunfight, was better than nothing. Another gunshot rang almost immediately after, the sound of shouting growing louder by the second, followed promptly by a scream.</p><p>I risked the smallest of glances through the crumbled windows of what used to be a home, not quite sure if I should be grateful or scared shitless by the sight in front of me. There seemed to be a gang battle of some sorts, that while not uncommon, seemed exceedingly stupid to attack one at their base, with an unknown number of members inside and a bountiful of knowledge on the surrounding area. It was hard to tell what was happening from this distance, but it seemed as though they had only shared warning shots and were merely bickering, the scream having come from a younger man about my age who had a bullet lodged into the wall besides his head. There was no bloodshed so far, but I was positive that it wasn't long until it began.</p><p>The attacking side was about fifteen strong, all fully armed with various types of pistols and automatics, whereas the defending gang had only ten or so visible members, only a handful of them brandishing firearms. The sounds of my quick paced gliding through the water was drowned out by their ceaseless arguing, eager to leave the area quickly before the bloodbath. I'd seen a few of these before. They always ended the same.</p><p>I was about to fumble my way through behind the demolished building and escape quickly before a thought struck me. Stupid, yes, but at this point my survival seemed to be dependent solely on stupid ideas with a decent chance of not getting me killed. My eyes wandered back to the small view I had of the two gangs preparing for another massacre, snapping quickly to the visible back of the building that was serving as their base. Unguarded, as expected, seeing as how they were being challenged.</p><p>On one hand, breaking into a gang's base and looting their supplies was the definition of suicide. On the other, I was close to starving, and the opportunity to either hunt or raid without being caught by a gang was so rare that I was sure another wouldn't appear for a good while. I'd seen many other strays die not of fights, floods, or even dogs, but starvation. After a moment of debate, the pangs riveting through my stomach won my silent debate, and I morbidly slithered to the building that would either be my deathbed or salvation.</p><p>Slipping just below the surface of the water, I moved cautiously so as to not splash the water above me and draw either of the gangs' attention, not daring to break the surface even when I took a desperate gasp, choking on the filthy water. I would describe the experience of having to cough water out of your lungs <em>silently </em>as unpleasant at the least, but surprisingly worth it, as neither group seemed to have noticed my presence.</p><p>A quick glance and I could see that they were moments away from pulling triggers and drawing blades, the defending side seeming to have gained an extra two members, that while still outmatched, bumped their odds slightly in their favor. It wasn't like the outcome was any of my concern either way, seeing as how whoever emerged victorious would kill me within seconds, so I decided not to bother with placing bets. Not like I had anyone to bet with, anyway.</p><p>I managed to slide my body against the back wall, far from anyone's line of sight, finding no suitable entrance to the base, just caved in windows that could serve to grab shit from inside if my arms were perhaps a foot or two longer. A displeased huff escaped my nose as I peeked back towards the side of the building that was barely recognizable as a home. A broken down side door was visible and seemed accessible enough, were it not for the fact that should I try and slip through, I would be in the peripheral of the side with significantly more guns. I did not like being in view of someone with a gun, let alone a whole gang of them, for quite obvious reasons.</p><p>However, it seemed to be that I had no other choice, and so with a deep gulp of air, I submerged myself once again, not bothering to hide the disturbance as much as before, mostly because it would be almost unnoticeable from the angle they were positioned in, just focusing on remaining silent. I heard a gunshot ring from underneath the pressing weight of the cold water surrounding me and flinched, realized the battle had started, and based off past experiences, would soon end as well. I had at most two minutes to gather supplies and escape before getting caught.</p><p>My body weaved its way through the crumbled doorframe, gasping as my head broke through the surface, all but drowned out by the sound of gunfire from just outside. As expected, there wasn't a soul in sight, and I greedily made my way towards the dry, elevated pile of loot by the far wall, pushing my soaking bangs out from my eyes to see it all clearly.</p><p>With quick, adrenaline rushed breaths, I swung my pack onto one shoulder and opened the top, sorting and shifting through the loot as rapidly as I could manage, the screams and gunshots from outside still raging strong. All the gang's stuff seemed to be piled up in this one corner, while convenient for them, was certainly not for me, who had only a minute or less to sort through it all and grab any edible supplies. A disappointed growl came from my throat, having found nothing except random junk that were most likely trophies from other strays and gangs alike, alongside various blades and destroyed firearms. The battle outside continued.</p><p>The longer I searched the stronger my exasperation became, and soon I didn't even bother being soundless, instead knocking aside anything that didn't catch my eye. The only things I shoved inside my pack were a handful of hunting blades and a significantly thicker jacket than the one waterlogged one clinging to my soaked skin in preparation for the winter, which was a mere two months away. Lifting up the warm cloth to stuff into the pack, a small, drawstring styled bag tumbled out, and would have fallen into the water below had I not caught it instinctively.</p><p>The weight of the bag was much too heavy to be anything practical, but still, I opened it in my fit of desperation, and just barely managed to suppress a squeal of glee upon opening it. There was canned food, an abundance of it, enough to feed a single person for at most a week. I dared not stay any longer in hopes of finding more of the hidden treasure, instead forcing my jittering body back under, slipping out the same way I came, although significantly more recklessly. The battle became more intense as I swam out, and I highly doubted anyone was paying enough attention to the side of the base to give a damn about ripples in the water.</p><p>I reemerged at the back side of the base with an audible gasp, drowned out still by the crackling of shots being fired and final screams echoing. One curious glance around the corner, and the same vision I had witnessed from fights prior was unfolding before me: Floating corpses, blood-stained water, and wounded members. I suppressed a sigh, turning back to run in the opposite direction, not bothering to dunk myself under the water as I slipped out away from the base, and hopefully far from their territory.</p><p>It didn't really matter, though, if I escaped or hid from this gang long enough; Another's territory was most likely bordering this one, where I would have to escape and hide from as well. The only difference between this one and the next sunken town I ventured towards was that no matter the outcome of this current battle, the members would be on high alert. No stray wanted to be in the area of a high alert gang.</p><p>I continued pushing through the water, the light just now getting bright enough to sparkle against the surface, pulling my cowboy hat over my head to stop any further sunburn. The fight had begun to die down, the final shot ringing menacingly through the stagnant and humid air, but by now, I was far enough gone that they had no chance of catching up to me lest I took an exceptionally long break. I was safe. Or at least, as safe as a stray could be.</p><p>My mind wandered, and as I found it usually did, back to Dream and George, far away in London, a whole continent away. A rare smile graced my lips as I remembered our stupid antics and long talks, Dream's heavy wheezing and George's lively accent. I might have been alone, a stray in a the midst of post-apocalypse gang warfare, but I found some comfort in knowing the pair was together during all of this.</p><p>They would keep each other safe.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A quick explanation to what exactly happened: There was a really big earthquake sometime in August, and soon after, there were lots of tsunamis and floods that turned low-altitude places like Florida into ocean and places like England into barely survivable death swamps. This story was first written in August, right after Tommy and Tubbo's meet up, so story-wise, it's about September fifth. That wasn't important, I just thought it was cool to know.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is way longer than the others! The reason is that this is two chapters merged together because I felt as though the second one [you'll probably be able to see where the first chapter ended and the second one began] just wasn't strong enough to serve as its own chapter. Hope you enjoy anyway &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tommy POV</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My voice sounds strange, as though my screams are distorted by water. Everything was cold around me, yet splotches of warmth dribbled onto me from above, collecting in miserable pools and draining down my sides. My body refused to move, a terrible weight pushing against my chest, both restraining and choking me. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I was gasping for air, but suddenly the warm splotches started growing, the small pools that had formed now beginning to cover me in their darkness. I tried to open my eyes, desperate to see anything through the shadows surrounding me, but the same nightly sight greeted me. The warm substance trickled all over me, consuming me until all I could feel was its thickness and warmth, almost missing the chill from moments prior.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My already distorted screaming suddenly became muted, an acidic taste making its way down my throat as I did so. I forced my body to move, to try to escape the liquid that had slithered its way across my body, but for some reason, no matter what direction I turned or reached, I was met with more of the metallic substance that more forced than poured its way into my mouth, nose, ears, and even eyes. There was no more breath left in my body, but for some reason I didn't feel myself suffocating, just the strange sensation of my body being consumed from the inside.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then through the slough, I felt a hand gently touch my chest. It was impossible to see, but bubbles passed from my lips as I begged for them to pull me out, the sound lost once more to the shadows around me, my body thrashing some more as I desperately clawed to get a grip on the hand to no avail. It seemed to pause before slowly retracting itself, and my screams intensified. Everything began shaking around me, or perhaps I was simply the one shaking, having lost all my perception of up, down, left, and right.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And then the hand was back, but not on my chest like before. It was sprawled onto my face, the palm completely covering my nose and mouth, and for the first time, the lack of air began to catch up to me. Muted chokes echoed in my ears, the sound lost to all but me as the hand kept pressing, pressing, and pressing. There was no point in screaming and wailing anymore, but I kept trying to make my way to what I believed was the surface by pulling myself up with the arm. It continued pushing me down, and I wasn't sure if it was the darkness I was seeing was because of he lack of light or because of the lack of air. I gasped, but of course, only a small amount of the warm liquid passed through the hand.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I wasn't sure when I began crying, but there was definitely something watery mixing with the pool around me. Or maybe that was simply a natural reaction to the finger pushing mercilessly against my eye. My breath hitched, the pain familiar, yet dull compared to the faint feeling of déjà vu that my memory was screeching at me to recall.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>For a split second, the darkness gained a red tint, the opacity flickering for a moment, like a glitch in the game I loved to play. There was a figure there, visible through the murky surface. The pressure on my eye soon became unbearable, and though I was tempted to scream once more, everything began to feel... Dulled. The green figure smiled at me sweetly, another memory threatening to reveal itself, although this one felt much more warm.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I reached a hand out to Dream. He ignored it, the pressure in my eye finally bursting.</em>
</p>
<p>My entire body jolted itself awake.</p>
<p>The night was still young, the moon barely having made its way to its full height in the sky, the stars twinkling beautifully yet ominously around it in a twisted pattern, although I couldn't quite describe why it felt that way. A loud gasp had forced me awake, my hands quivering and eyes wide as I looked up, too startled to move from my position, simply listening to the quick, erratic breaths, the memory of the nightmare already fleeting from my grasp, but that didn't stop the foreboding sense of dread that had crept its way up my spine. I shivered, bringing a gentle hand to my face, a vague recollection of something pressing upon it still lingering.</p>
<p>"Tommy?" Tubbo's soft voice broke through the confusing static raging through my mind and tingling through my limbs, and my eyes quickly flitted over to him, his figure highlighted by the potent white light that gleamed down from the bright night. We had settled ourselves into a small camp for the night, just enough to catch up on sleep. We found an outcropping of tilted earth large enough to lean against and used a tarp to make some basic form of tent, barely large enough for one of us, and a large tear in it made it easy to see the brilliant sky above. It sent jitters through my spine every time I peered through it.</p>
<p>"You okay?" Their gentle tone found my shaken ears again, and I gave him a stiff nod from my awkward position on the ground, closing my eyes again briefly as I stretched, for now just glad we were both alive and that the spots I'd been seeing for the past days had finally vanished. The sodden texture of my clothes had dried off slightly, leaving me in a rigid, overly large hoodie and cargo pants that clung to my skin like it was a part of it.</p>
<p>Tubbo was dressed similarly, having found the clothes in what we assumed had been Dream's bag, except his left arm had been fitted into the closest thing to a sling we could manage using our old clothes. Their build had gotten stronger, and a little leaner compared to a month ago, the same being true for me as well, both of our hair having grown out and neither of us bothering to cut it. Tubbo's was now long enough to pull into the shortest of ponytails, but instead of doing so, he simply let his long bangs fall onto his face. It gave them a strange sort of pensive look that was only accented by the moonlight, his posture and expression both contributing to this odd effect as he looked up into the sky.</p>
<p>"Nightmare?" Tubbo asked simply, once again taking my silent nod as an answer. They sighed, unsurprised, saying nothing more except continuing to switch his gaze between me and the surrounding lifeless landscape, by now used to my sudden awakenings. I reached out my hand to grab Tubbo's, and they give me a warm smile, squeezing it back, the small gesture having silently become our way of reassuring each other through our never-ending journey.</p>
<p>"I'll switch with you," I croaked, throat still hoarse and non-spotted vision bleary from my slumber. There was little chance of falling back to sleep, not after that freaky dream and the way it always managed to rush adrenaline through every fiber of my body. I wasn't quite sure how I knew it was always the same dream, but the bits and flashes I recalled always seemed to link together in some way. Not in a visual sense, per se, since it was always dark, but more in a kinesthetic sense. Always some sort of pressure that built up in my body. I gave it little thought, choosing instead to focus on the shorter figure besides me.</p>
<p>"You need sleep, Tommy," Tubbo drawled, clearly quite tired themselves, the lull of routine from living with Dream and George still not having rubbed off just yet. "You've been switching early with me three days now. It's okay to go back to sleep." They smiled at me again, letting go of my needy hand to push me back down into a laying position before slipping his hand onto my back, as though holding me in place.</p>
<p>"Not tired," I grumbled, reaching up to give his arm a light smack, biting back a yawn at the alluring mention of freeing myself from the awful exhaustion that I'd become accustomed to more and more. Tubbo huffed, knowing full well it was a lie, the darkness under my eyes surely visible from their position. Neither of us spoke of the real reason I wanted to stay awake.</p>
<p>"How's your eye," Tubbo said instead, giving it yet another worried glance. Tubbo had probably been the more concerned one of us regarding my injuries, which seemed rather funny to me, seeing as how I was more concerned over Tubbo's surely fractured arm.</p>
<p>This was our third day without Dream or George, having left the broken man in the battlefield and George's corpse in the bloodstained water he perished in. Whether or not Dream would bury him was completely unknown to either of us, our only concern being that we were far away from the crazed man, and most importantly, our guilt. The dark patches that had been rapidly overtaking the vision in my right eye ever since the encounter only served to feed the wrenching in my gut while the rest of my body fought to forget the whole encounter. Flipping through the pages in my journal did not help. I haven't written in it since.</p>
<p>"Don't see spots anymore," I chuckled, closing it and touching it gently with my hand, the memory of Dream's hands pushing down upon it still fresh, and if I concentrated hard enough, I could still feel it. "But it does feel kind of... Weird." Tubbo tilted their head, gesturing me to do the same so he could get a clearer view at it. I huffed, but begrudgingly complied, laying on my back so that his face was directly above mine.</p>
<p>I chalked it up to the tiredness consuming me and my undeniably shit sleeping patterns recently, but there was something simply off about looking up at Tubbo. It was hard to describe what it was that was wrong exactly, so I moved to rub my eye again, just enough to get the drowsiness out from it. Tubbo stopped me, prying my hand off before it even made contact.</p>
<p>"What," I continued grumbling, still staring up at him from where I lay on the cold, hard floor. Tubbo gave me an awkward, hopeful smile, but his expression showed nothing but worry and concern in the stern in the white glow of the night. He gingerly dropped my hand back onto my chest, and with a shaky breath and reassuring smile, they brought it back over my face. My eyes instinctively flinched closed as his palm lay gently on my left, uninjured eye, despite the fact that Tubbo's hands were much smaller and much softer than Dream's, but I eventually let my body relax slightly and pried my eyes back open.</p>
<p>I saw nothing but darkness.</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm blind in my right eye. It moves like normal, but I can't see anything out of it. It's all dark. We don't think I can get it back.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This is our third day on our own again. We're still walking north, but without a compass, our only indication that we're going the right way is that the water's been getting lower. It's about calf high now, probably because we had a flood yesterday. I think we're going the right way. At least Tubbo can walk good again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There's not much to say this entry besides that. I'm tired. It's only been a month but I'm tired. Tubbo's tired too. We've just been doing the same thing we did before Dream and George, except now we know how to hunt. That's it until something interesting happens.</em>
</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>"How you holding up?" Tubbo asked cheerfully enough, obviously trying to lift my mood. I scowled, reaching another tentative finger to my right eye, and as expected, I was unable to see it, the only hint that something was approaching was the brush of my lashes against my fingertip. I couldn't say I was exactly trying to hide my disappointment, but still, Tubbo picked up on it much too easily for my liking. He hummed a perky tune, walking a little faster so that our strides and pace matched, now alongside me.</p>
<p>"It's not all bad," Tubbo said as encouragingly as they could, still trying to lift my sorry mood from last night. "At least you still got one eye left, right?" He quieted himself when I glanced at him, too miserable to even come up with a response, and that was apparently enough to finally make him drop the forcibly chipper attitude. I didn't see it when he reached for my hand, seeing as how he was on my blind side, and while my misery and self-pity was still clawing itself through my soul, I didn't hesitate to accept his consolation.</p>
<p>The sun was already high in the sky, overbearingly hot even with the chilliness brought upon by the water. We'd only just begun our trek once more, Tubbo having woken up perhaps an hour or two before. They thankfully understood that I was much too distraught to fall back asleep last night, instead letting me take up guard duty early once more. Perhaps this wasn't the smartest decision, seeing as how I felt like simply dropping to the ground from built up exhaustion alone, something we'd quickly come to find was not ideal in the end of the world. I couldn't particularly bring myself care, trudging forward with Tubbo by my side in a fit of defiance against something unknown to me.</p>
<p>And as much as I'd like to blame my fatigue for the next ten minutes of our lives, I knew perfectly well that it was because I was too busy sulking to pay attention.</p>
<p>"Wait, Tommy," Tubbo paused, forcing me to a halt with our intertwined hands. They said nothing more, only staring at the ground in front of us with both frightened worry and childish curiosity. My droopy eyes- <em>eye </em>flashed over the same water briefly, not seeing anything much of interest, dully noting that the color was oddly... cloudy, white mixed in with the murk. I gave the area a small kick, splashing the hazy water onto us both, receiving a soft yelp from Tubbo, but otherwise, nothing happened.</p>
<p>"It's still water." My tone ended up being much harsher than I ended, still miserable, not only about my eye. Both of us knew all too well that we were trying too hard not to get caught up in the grief and despair from just three days prior, even though we had never spoken of it. The only indication I'd seen that Tubbo was just as perturbed as myself was the soft, muted weeping I heard the night after.</p>
<p>"It's not supposed to be white though," Tubbo drawled, letting his hand fall limp out of mine to tentatively grab at the odd colored water. As expected, it slipped through their fingers like usual, only the slightest hint of some sort of grainy residue left as Tubbo brought their fingers back up to their face to examine.</p>
<p>"What the hell...?" His murmuring was so faint I could barely hear it, completely engrossed with the barely visible specks littering their palm. I gave the sky a quick glance, the blindingly brilliant sun making it clear that the afternoon would soon fade into evening, even though we had hardly made any progress.</p>
<p>"We don't have time to worry about it." Stupidly, I didn't slip our hands back together, for no other reason than I simply didn't feel the need to at the moment, the warmth and reassurance of Tubbo's grasp still lingering. "Let's just keep going." Tubbo's brow raised in mild surprise, pursing their lips as though considering whether or not to follow my already walking form.</p>
<p>"I- I guess you're right," Tubbo begrudgingly complied, giving the murk one last quizzical glance before scampering quickly back to my side, or as quickly as one could through calf-deep water. Their eyes continued scanning the water, as though they'd be able to answer their question by merely looking at it. Tubbo remained silent besides me, not bothering to link our hands back together either, apparently too caught up in his own thoughts to pay it any mind.</p>
<p>We didn't get very far. Perhaps we walked a hundred meters before things went horribly wrong. The water in front of me was darker, the ground below all but impossible to see. Tubbo was still distracted by the white water, walking semi-normally with his head down and fiddling with the loose strap of the sling, in which what we hoped was only a fractured arm lay. Thoughts of rest toyed with my mind, the aching that lingered in my chest and arm distracting me from pointing out the sudden shift into the water to Tubbo.</p>
<p>Some instinctual sensation of dread forced me to pause just before the break in the swamp's color against my exhausted reasoning, but it seemed as though Tubbo did not get the same gut feeling. My hand reached out for him, confused, just some sort of sudden urge to keep them close, but Tubbo had already taken a step in front of me.</p>
<p>Time slowed just enough for me to see how Tubbo's eyes widened in pure unadulterated fright and desperation, an unsteady hand starting to reach back for me, but much too late. He screamed my name, and I think he managed to hear me scream theirs back before his body was violently plunged into the chilly waters below. The water was no longer calm, the savage thrashing occurring just below its surface upsetting it into wild waves.</p>
<p>"<em>TUBBO!</em>" All my exhaustion simply vanished in an instant, every nerve no matter how frayed or relaxed suddenly spiked with adrenaline, my heart heavy like a weight in my chest as I took in enough air so that my lungs felt like bursting. I jumped in after them with but a moment of hesitation.</p>
<p>As soon as my body dove into the filthy water, an unsettling cold passed through my muscle and into my bones, the chill almost enough to make me gasp, sending erratic shivers through me. Everything around me was hazy and cloudy, nearly impossible to see through, the water surprisingly dark despite being midday. All of my exposed and still-healing injuries started to burn ferociously, as though clawing and unmending itself back into shreds. My eyes stung and my pulse beat viciously against my ears, somehow managing to make my panic even more intense, all my thoughts simply focused on the task ahead of me: Find Tubbo, and find them <em>now</em>.</p>
<p>There was a figure just below me, their legs kicking and thrashing wildly in no particular pattern, one arm clutched against their side and the other reaching out for me. Tubbo's expression was all but impossible to see, but I could see his mouth wide and agape, as though still caught in his scream, air bubbles floating freely upwards. Their movements were quickly becoming slower and more drawled, unable to swim properly and lungs surely begging for oxygen.</p>
<p>I pushed through the water as hastily as my body allowed me, the pressure it caused from above not much, but certainly noticeable. This was much too deep to be a mere sinkhole, and somehow, Tubbo seemed to still be sinking into its depths, now close enough for me the way their limbs going weary and slack, his eyes fighting to remain open, body thrashing uncontrollably as it continued gasping for air. A tightness in my chest reminded my morbidly that I didn't have much air left myself, but I pushed all thoughts of the tension in my chest and throbbing heart beat out for now, focusing only on the slowly drowning boy in front of me.</p>
<p>Tubbo's eyes were probably too unfocused to see me clearly by this point, hand finally falling limp in my general direction, letting the dark water cease his movements and unconsciousness to take a hold of him. The stinging and leaden feeling both on and in my chest would soon become unbearable, but my hands had yet to wrap themselves around Tubbo's, so I soldiered on, desperation and despair consuming my frail form entirely.</p>
<p>I continued kicking my legs behind me as fast as they would go, extending my arms so that my shoulder burned and arms were close to popping from their sockets. The sickening soiled water around me hid any tears I might have spilled, all too aware Tubbo had a minute at most to return to the surface. The boding sense of dread that overcame me merely thinking of having to leave Tubbo's corpse behind was enough to give me the final boost needed to finally make that final push, our bodies connecting as my fingers gripped their wrist in the tightest hold I had mustered in my life.</p>
<p>I didn't dare smile just yet, still too panicked to do anything besides force my body further, at last letting my instincts take their hold on me as I made a mad dash for the surface, much, much farther than I recalled diving down. Tubbo's body was heavy behind me, slowing me down drastically, the burning sensation from before now a full-on flame, my body moments away from forcing me to inhale the foul liquid around me.</p>
<p>My legs kicked and my bad arm continued dragging Tubbo's body behind me, the glistening surface probably an arm's length away. My hand reached greedily towards it, my fingertips breaking through, and soon enough, my head broke through as well. The sudden rush of air riveting through me painful, but so, so welcome, the slight breeze from before now harsh and chilling. After my lungs seemed satisfied enough so that I was no longer in danger of collapsing from lack of air, I hauled Tubbo the remainder of the way, his body so heavy I could barely manage to wrangle his mouth out of the water, angling them awkwardly so that I could swim back to the shallower water we'd emerged from.</p>
<p>"I's okay, Tu-Tubbo," I choked out, teeth chattering from the autumnal waters. "You'll be a-alright." Tubbo didn't respond, expression slack and figure comepletely lifeless. My breath hitched upon seeing their sorry state, but there was little I could do at the moment besides trudge and fumble much too slowly to 'shore', too tired to swim properly.</p>
<p>My back brushed against something hard and mildly painful, but I'd come accustomed to brushing off nuisances, instead focusing entirely on hauling Tubbo out from the abysmal waters and back to where the drop-off was. Their skin was pale as I managed to angle them into a position above the cloudy surface, no breath passing through his mouth, which lay slack and agape, expression stuck in a horrid, lifeless gray.</p>
<p>"Tubbo...?" My faint, broken voice escaped my lips, unsure of what exactly to do next. Everything hurt. I could see the shaking of my own arms as I shook Tubbo, who stayed deathly still, all of the previous strength I thought we'd gained gone in an instant, leaving behind his broken form. Pushing through the strange feeling of what could only be described as anguish that was clawing its way up my throat and clamoring to be retched, I lay Tubbo as flat as I could without pushing their face under.</p>
<p>"You're going to live, dammit." I tried for hostility, but it ended up sounding more like a broken sob. "You c- You <em>can't </em>die. Please Tubbo..." My hands linked together, just like Tubbo taught me, finding their way to their already injured chest, and through my fitful of held-back whimpers, I pushed as hard as I could onto their shattered body. Nothing. I pushed again. Tubbo did not respond.</p>
<p>"<em>N-No!" </em>I screeched, the words barely recognizable as intelligible speech, more wild than a human should have been able to make. Everything except for Tubbo seemed hazy to me, the only thing that mattered being to wake wake him up, because they just <em>had</em> to wake up. Heavy, unsteady breaths passed through me as I pinched their nose, forcing my shaky air into the motionless body.</p>
<p>"<em>Wake up, wake up, just wake up, Tubbo!</em>" I wept, once again shoving my palms perhaps a little too violently into Tubbo's chest, who still had to even show a flicker of life. How long has it been since he breathed? Two minutes? <em>Three</em>? My palms went even deeper as I practically howled and screamed at him to awaken, not even sure I was speaking words anymore. Because there was no way I could do any of this alone, I <em>needed-</em></p>
<p>There was a soft cough. My frenzied eyes shot up to Tubbo's face, still a deathly pale, but a trembling was seen throughout their body, and at last a faint light was reflected in their previously closed eyes, jaw moving just enough to choke out the white liquid that dribbled out from his lungs. Tubbo's eyes fluttered briefly, pained wheezes and gasps evoking my silence as he struggled for breath.</p>
<p>A small groan escaped his lips, hand moving awkwardly besides him as he tried to choke words out from their still trembling mouth. I whimpered and wept some more, unaware of the small stream of tears that found its way onto my neck, focusing solely on the dull blue eyes staring up at me worriedly, still somewhat dazed. Their soggy clothes were stuck in my tightly gripped fists, trying to control my sniffling and whining, pulling him into the tightest hug I could muster.</p>
<p>"Y-You'r- You- Tu-T-" My nonsensical babbling was cut short by Tubbo, who slid their hand back into mine, giving it a light squeeze nonetheless. I squeezed back as tightly as I could, just needing to feel the light pulse in their wrist for now, holding back more sobs that rocked my body back and forth.</p>
<p>"I know," He croaked, voice faint and coarse, barely any better than mine. "Toge-gether, remember...?" Another fit of sobbing racked my body, nodding furiously into his shoulder, Tubbo fighting off his own aching to simply return my gesture, a relieved, sweet smile gracing their lips as they continued staring out into what was surely a cliff of some sort. Tubbo gripped my own shirt in their grip, in as much need of support as I was at the moment.</p>
<p>For some stubborn reason, I was still trying to suppress tears rolling down my face and the frightened shaking overtaking my arms. I'd never had such a close call, not anything like that. The memory of George's corpse resurfaced in my mind briefly before I shut it back out, a grim reminder of what Tubbo's comforting eyes would have looked like should I have been moments slower. Hollow, cold, desperate, and most horrifying, lifeless, the vision burying itself in my soul. Too many painful thoughts and physical sores were catching up to me now, but I still did not let go, instead blocking them all out as I continued clinging onto my friend. Another muffled weep, another squeeze.</p>
<p>"Together-" I managed to choke out, and I could have sworn Tubbo had started crying as well, merely reciprocating my own hurried nodding from before, unable to properly respond. The brown-haired boy in front of me chuckled through their own sniffling, still alive, and that was all I needed him to be at the moment. I made a silent promise to myself then and there, pushing aside the intrusive memory of the blond man from my dreams away.</p>
<p>We would stay together, and no matter what, I would keep Tubbo alive.</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>"How deep do you think that was," Tubbo mused out loud, having recovered from both their plunge into the waters and from our small cry fest. The redness had yet to fade from their face, and I assumed mine was similar, and Tubbo begun hesitantly lifting himself back up into a standing position, using me for support.</p>
<p>"No idea," I mumbled through what was hopefully the last of my sniffles, my mind not over the disaster from minutes prior, still too distracted to fully pay attention to any of our surroundings. My working eye glanced Tubbo over yet again, who seemed to be almost back to their full strength, legs only a little shaky and arm once again cast back into its makeshift sling. His worrying brown eyes shone lively in the sun, soaked clothes clinging to their skin, the color thankfully having returned back to its natural hue. The only hints of the events that just occurred was probably my own worried expression and our thoroughly drenched clothing and hair.</p>
<p>"Do you think it was the earthquake that made that?" I asked to change the subject, seeing as how Tubbo seemed to be ignoring what had just happened, having forcibly calmed his breathing moments prior. I suppose sometimes I forget how resilient he could be, but then again, if he wasn't I'd most likely be standing here on my own. Perhaps the same could be true for me as well, but seeing them stand there, radiating his most likely forced confidence yet again  compared to the frailty that I felt in my own chest almost daily.</p>
<p>"Not really," He ended up humming, bringing their good arm up to wipe some dribbling water off from their cheek. "The water's too deep to be another break, and when I was under it just seemed to go on forever." Their face contoured into a curious way, yet somehow retaining some sort of heaviness that I had noticed was becoming more and more common on them. My own lips were tugged into a line, so maybe it was merely the result of surviving this long.</p>
<p>"This has to be some sort of cliff," Tubbo muttered, placing a hesitant foot forward, as though testing it to see if it would hold his weight. A short inhale of air passed through my teeth as I reached for his wrist, holding it steady in my grasp. Tubbo pried their eyes away from the watery horizon long enough to give me a comforting smile, pulling me along behind him gently as he took another cautious step forward. I took a deep breath, staying quiet as Tubbo kept taking more tentative steps despite my own unease.</p>
<p>There was a small shriek as one of his footsteps was met with no ground underneath, and my arm immediately jerked backwards, pulling his no-longer frail figure back towards me, nervous, unsteady breaths passing through both our lungs. Tubbo was a little shaken, but otherwise, did nothing more than pull his wrist out from my grasp and grip mine back with a light squeeze. Whether it was for them or for me I wasn't certain, but I gave a soft chuckle, squeezing back.</p>
<p>"Make sure I don't fall, okay?" I was almost hesitant to nod, but eventually succumbed when I saw Tubbo making his way back down to a crouching position, ready to stick his head underneath the water once more. Their hand slipped out from mine, and I quickly went to grab the back of his ill-fitting hoodie we stole from Dream, clutching the soggy fabric as tightly as I could, unable to do much else besides watch.</p>
<p>Tubbo's head sunk beneath the suspiciously calm, cloudy waters, balancing precariously on the rocky ledge. My grip only tightened knowing the plummet that should befall him should my grasp falter. Tubbo's good arm moved, causing small ripples in the water's surface as they fumbled around with something on the cliff. Eventually, their head broke through the swamp's surface, much too late for my liking, taking a deep gasp as air returned once more through their body, something small and white clutched into their palm.</p>
<p>"You good?" I asked, pulling him away from the cliff's ledge as son as their face broke through, their spluttering enough to send me into another small panic. With another gasp, Tubbo rubbed his eyes and calmed his breathing returned to normal, hair clinging to their face in an awkward clump, jittery smile on his lips.</p>
<p>"Y-yeah," Tubbo choked, attention completely absorbed on the small rock in their grasp to pay me much thought, but did reach towards me absentmindedly, as though wishing to pull me down to the cliff side besides them.</p>
<p>The sun was still high in the sky, glistening on the white-tinted wet terrain around us, although I wasn't sure how much longer we had to waste after all the time we spent consoling each other. The sudden drop-off in front of us was surely a time-waster as well, as we'd more than likely have to go around it, and god forbid we had another repeat of Tubbo's fall. I was more than tempted to simply pull them back up and continue walking, even though neither of us probably had to idea which direction to go by this point, but something held me back. With a sigh, I let the feeling that had blossomed from my gut pull me down so that I sat next to Tubbo, letting my feet dangle off the edge as I watched them study the small, oddly shaped rock in their hands, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little interested.</p>
<p>"This is... Chalk," They said, brows creasing slightly as they rubbed it with his fingers and into their palm, the substance indeed leaving a smeared, wet grainy streak behind. My fingers reached over to take it from theirs, and I soon found myself studying it as well, about a hundred thoughts running through my head as I fiddled with the small rock similarly to how Tubbo had moments ago.</p>
<p>"Why the fuck is there chalk here, and so damn <em>much </em>of it?" My expression mimicked Tubbo's, our figures huddled over the small rock in my palm, which gave neither of us any answers. Perhaps the only thing I'd figured out so far was just why the water here was so murky and cloudy, the chalk unable to settle due to the constant waves and flash floods. Tubbo's eyes flitted away from the chalk, peering back out over the horizon, where the water had no ground underneath to support us. And then his expression changed suddenly, some sort of realization hitting them, fumbling to grasp my hand once more.</p>
<p>"I- I don't think we've been going north, Tommy," Tubbo whispered to me, eyes wide as his attention was drawn back to me, leaning forward as though telling me a secret. I tilted my head, the pieces having not yet falling for me as quickly as they had for Tubbo, probably because I was still too hung up on how the life had been so close from seeping out of him.</p>
<p>"But the water's been getting shallower," I reasoned back, still fiddling with the small white chunk in my hand. Tubbo stared at it silently, like they were trying to chose their next words carefully.</p>
<p>"I think we've been-" Tubbo's words faltered momentarily, giving the cliff a solid kick underneath the water for no reason in particular, looking me dead in my working eye, expression solemn and in mild distress. "I think we're at the white cliffs, Tommy."</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <em>Don't know how, but Tubbo and I have been walking South instead of North. We're at the white cliffs now, and they're completely submerged. We can't think of a way to cross them, but we can't go back either. The dogs seem to be more concentrated inland, and for some reason the water's deeper as well, not to mention how long we'd have to spend in the 'danger zone' and we have no idea which direction the highland is anymore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We've been walking along the coast for two days now, trying to find the place where we can see across to France, but we haven't been making much progress. Tubbo nearly drowned because he stepped off the ledge, so we're trying to avoid a repeat, but that also means we're going too slow. If the dogs were here, we'd be dead. We've been in the open and sleeping without cover. Tubbo thinks we should just head back. At this point so do I. The food supply we stole from Dream is going to run out by tomorrow, and we've even been rationing, not to mention that we've had no choice but to drink saltwater. We can't keep this up much longer.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>---</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Just realized I haven't been keeping track of the entry numbers. I guess it doesn't matter, just know that we're still alive. Tubbo's been keeping track of the days with the calendar in the front, and according to that, tomorrow will be the one month anniversary of the end of the world. Congrats to us for surviving this long.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We found the strait on the today, but it seems farther away than we expected. Tubbo and I have been debating on whether or not to actually try and cross, probably because we didn't really believe we would find it. On one hand, it's dangerous. We'll probably die before we make it just from how exhausted we are, and we don't know if its any better over there or not. On the other, France is more elevated, probably less of a hell swamp, not to mention how hard food is to get here. We're not sure if we could take going back the way we came anyway, especially since we can't tell which way is North anyway.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We're going to sleep on it. If there are no more entries after this, know that we're dead.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>---</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We made it. We're in France. Tubbo and I put together probably the worst raft I have ever seen out of some of the trees a bit further inland. It fell apart halfway through, but we were somehow able to swim the rest of the way. Tubbo's arm still isn't fully healed, and if I'm being honest, my shoulder still feels like shit, and the saltwater made the trip hell. The trip took us the entire day, and we're both so sore from swimming so much, but it's okay. We're okay.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm writing this the morning after, because we crossed over and just crashed. So far nothing looks too different from England, but we haven't explored anything yet at all. Hopefully we can find some solid ground and food. We ate all we had yesterday and lost half of our shit in the water. If we die now after all that I'm going to be so fucking pissed.</em>
</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <b>??? POV - Ten Months After the Earthquake</b>
</p>
<p>Everything hurt.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, I wasn't really able to do much about it, instead huffing across the unfamiliar terrain, pumping my legs even faster. Tommy's journal was stuffed rapidly into my pack, having found myself in too much of a rush to put it back in its waterproof briefcase properly, grim thoughts of what would happen to its delicate paper should I trip into the murky swamp a constant worry. The gruff barking seemed to be just at my heels, forcing my already labored breath to become even thinner.</p>
<p>"Fuck!" The curse flew out from my mouth before I even had a chance to comprehend what was happening, a scream tearing through my burnt out lungs as something sharp dug itself into my left leg. I pivoted my body around, having been too slow to outrun the dogs, now left with only one option: Fight. My deceased friend's knife was tight in my grip, the dulling edge somehow still able to cut easily through the dog that had leaped upon me. Its shoulder opened in two, a piercing yip resonating through the evening, its pack taking notice of its injury.</p>
<p>My eyes flitted about nervously, eyeing the pack as they prepared for their attack. The majority of the relatively small pack was about twenty feet away, with what had to be about seven of them, including the injured one. Even with their small size, I was much too drained from an earlier battle, the terrain also working against me. The wound from the dogs claws earned another hiss from my lips, red flowing freely down my pants and soaking the already damp cloth a sickening shade of red.</p>
<p>Three of the dogs lunged at once, the other three apparently not far behind while the injured one fumbled on its three good legs to attack me once more. I panicked, only able to fend two of them off at a time using the short blade. Not the ideal situation for dealing with the dogs, but seeing as how it was my only weapon at the moment, it would have to make do.</p>
<p>Another deafening scream rang through the air as one of the mutts bit into my already injured leg, thankfully small enough to kick off with little resistance, my arm moving furiously to cut down one of the larger dogs as it leapt up to bite my face. Perhaps one thing I had to be thankful for was that for some reason, they all seemed to have the same attack pattern, and after months of hunting them relentlessly, I'd familiarized myself with it just enough to not die. Or so I hoped.</p>
<p>"Get <em>off!</em>" I screeched again, grunting as a dog leapt its way onto my chest, right where I had positioned the only other blade I had on me: A stupid, almost toy-like knife that had to be perhaps only four inches in length that I found in the briefcase alongside the journal. The 'vlog' knife as Tommy liked to call it.</p>
<p>A fourth dog weaved its way through my swings, a fifth coming soon after in an attempt to knock me to the ground. The fear that settled throughout my body soon flared into an all-consuming panic, my eyes going wide as blood and sweat alike covered my exhausted body. They just kept coming, determined to take me down for some reason known only to themselves, because I sure as hell didn't know. Blood seeped from newly made cuts in my flesh from teeth and claws alike, more pain ripping through my body and out my throat as I continued my weary battle.</p>
<p>Most of it began passing through in a blur, my blade meeting with the dogs flesh in a way that had become natural to me over the past months, the hounds only breaking through occasionally to take a chunk of me or slice part of my legs up. If I was being honest, the lower portion of my body wasn't looking too good, but I didn't have time to worry about that or the way everything seemed to be on absolute fire. All that mattered was slicing the dogs just enough so that they retreated back to wherever the hell they came from, as long as it was far away from me.</p>
<p>I had fought these dogs several times before, probably too many to count by now, and so far these battles always ended the same. But that didn't mean it made the experience any less painful.</p>
<p>Another scream racked my body as three dogs lunged at once, bringing my knife in a wide arc in an attempt to knock them all back at once. Perhaps not my smartest decision, but I couldn't stop it once I realized it was too late.</p>
<p>My partners blade struck the largest of the dogs just right. Blood gushed from its neck, splattering its companions in its gruesome arc. After nearly a year of seeing so much bloodshed, I remained unfazed, instead watching it fall back still spurting blood, but the other two pressed forward. In that singular second I was undefended, and the pair had no hesitation taking full advantage of my temporary weakness, one aiming straight for my arm, the other towards my lower torso.</p>
<p>Another pitiful scream ripped from my throat as its ferocious claws dug their way through the exposed flesh, the burning sensation somehow growing even more intense even after they were removed. The second managed to latch its jaw on my forearm, the sharp canines ripping through the delicate muscle in a mere instant. My eyes widened as its grip tightened around me, my other hand bashing it in neck instinctively, its grip loosening just enough for it to drop back down to the ground. I howled as the pain in my arm became a riveting agony, knocking the dog out of its shock, ready to pounce again.</p>
<p>My leg and arm throbbed, and my pulse was now pounding loudly enough for it too actually give me a migraine, but I did not hesitate to push through my exhaustion, no matter how panicked I felt. Ignoring the absolute anguish I felt when I moved it, I brought my knife arm down to the dog that had just landed, the one that had clawed through my stomach. The second one would be too slow to stop me from sending the blade straight through the top of its head. The squalshing sound and the rush of red when I removed it affected neither of us, although I could say that perhaps the blood loss was finally beginning to get to me. As the last two standing dogs approached me, I felt my body sway slightly before I fixed myself, the moment giving the pair plenty of time to take me by surprise.</p>
<p>This time I angled my blade correctly, and it impaled the mutt that bit my arm at just the right angle to force it to fall back, bringing it back quick enough for the second one to feel part of its wrath as well. It fell to the ground with a whimper, the warm red liquid that splattered onto my face blinding me only temporarily before I quickly wiped it off. I only managed to nick a bit off the shoulder, so of course it stood back up with a growl, aiming to lunge again. My hand immediately went down onto its fragile skull, one of the most effective ways to put them down.</p>
<p>My body swayed yet again, and looking back towards the remainders of the surviving pack, I found them retreating back towards the direction they came without a second glance to their fallen. My eyes blinked awfully slowly, watching them slink away, then back to what was going to my breakfast for tomorrow. The battle was over, just like that. My breath got caught in my throat, the constant huffing pausing only slightly, my brain beginning to take everything that just happened in before stopping itself once more. A breath I hadn't known I'd been holding released itself.</p>
<p>I knew what happened from all the other times I'd had this sort of battle. Everything from this one had passed in a blur, just like the ones before. My head ached despite nothing hitting it, and I clutched a hand to it through my mop of tangled hair in a pitiful attempt to soothe it. It was still afternoon, yet I just felt so tired, and perhaps it was because of the steady stream of blood  staining the thin veil of water red, but I was much too stubborn and sleepy to care.</p>
<p>The dogs seemed to have finally crossed over past the jagged horizon the next time I glanced, having zoned out standing still. My head still hurt. Everything did. My legs were practically torn to shreds, back and torso clawed, and arms bitten and scratched. I felt so strange today, reading Tommy's journal, and that feeling persisted even now. It wasn't something I hadn't felt before, but for some reason, the brief, perilous battle intensified it, the red dribbling and dripping on me making it even worse. There was a dog carcass at my feet, having bleed out a while ago, like I was now. The pathetic face reminded me of someone. I missed my partner.</p>
<p>I felt woozy. This wasn't exactly what I wanted just now. I sucked in another breath, letting the blade fall into the clouded water. My legs shook, threatening to bring me crashing to the ground, and I let it. They'd been overworked these past few days anyway, as I'd been walking almost without rest towards the French coastline. I'd crashed face-first so that my pack stayed above the water line, the precious notebook above the water's surface.</p>
<p>A small hum passed through my lips, my eyes threatening to close on me despite my need to find the pair. I knew that when they finally shut I would be greeted with the sight of my friend's corpse, just like always. Clawed and bitten to shreds, face not even recognizable. I didn't want that to happen to those brats.</p>
<p>The water lapped around me, washing away some of the blood adorned on my face. My lips stopped humming, a sigh escaping them instead, followed by a small. I was about a third of the way done with the book. I would find them soon.</p>
<p>I ended up falling asleep in the reddened water, the already hazy memory of the battle fleeting from my mind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Shit Changes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the Walking Again chapter on Wattpad for anyone that read that</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tommy POV</b>
</p><p>"Tommy!" Tubbo groaned, whining only having grown louder and louder since we started walking. "Come on, I'm really tired! Can't we take a break?" It's been nearly two weeks since we crossed over to France, and so far, it has sucked just about the same as England did. The terrain was more or less the same, food still near impossible to get, and we kept having to go off course to avoid all those fucking dogs. Not like we had a course in the first place, anyway. We just picked the direction that seemed like it would take us far away from the coast the quickest, and we're not even sure if we're still heading the that way anymore.</p><p>One thing did seem rather odd, though. We passed through only one town throughout our entire time in France, and it was the one we crashed in when we first arrived. It was completely deserted, of both animals and people, which might have been good for us, but it made me wonder just what happened to everyone. It was a coastal town, so Tubbo thought everyone simply drowned at sea. Even if that were the case, it didn't sit right with me. I made us move on the next morning after we found some expired snacks, despite Tubbo's complaints of scavenging it for more supplies.</p><p>"We still have daylight," I grumbled back, tired from both their whining and this conversation we always seemed to have. Tubbo huffed from besides me, and I already knew what was passing through their head, just as he already knew what was going through mine. So we both stayed silent, not bothering to have the same argument again, instead continuing our endless walking in the silence that we'd come to find oddly comforting.</p><p>As my feet dragged through the ankle deep water, I turned my head to face Tubbo, who was settled alongside me by my blind side. In the two weeks since we've arrived, I've gotten more or less used to the odd, consuming feeling that came with having only one eye. At first I felt myself getting desperate, a sense of panic never far from taking over me not just because of how there always seemed to be some sort of sound lurking just beyond my limited peripheral. The memory of Tubbo's hand reaching for mine never faded, and while I'd been trying my best to forget, Dream's rampage and George's corpse never passed either.</p><p>Neither of us ever talked about them again. I knew it was eating the both of us up, but still, we couldn't bring ourselves to think about it, much less speak about it. Or at least, that's how it was for me. The only time they were mentioned was when Tubbo suggested we try and copy their fluidity, that sense of togetherness that would have made them an unstoppable force had Tubbo and I not been there. So on the rare occasions when we don't feel like dropping dead where we stand, we practice fighting like before, except now with the added twist of doing it together, just like Dream and George used to. We've begun to find a sort of pattern to each other, the longer we do it. I've never brought it up, but ever since a particularly bad nightmare, Tubbo's been walking on my right. Almost as if he knew how comforting it is.</p><p>I was at an awkward angle to get a good look, but I'd gotten a little used to it by now. I'd also gotten used to seeing the fresh, daily scratches and purple and blue bruises on their body, and I'm sure Tubbo had gotten used to seeing the same sight on me. Their arm was still in the makeshift sling, although it clearly didn't hurt as much, and he was able to move it around with some difficulty. His limp was still prevalent, and while it had healed significantly from a month ago, it never seemed to get any better than what it was, but at least it didn't seem to get any worse. Tubbo stifled a small smirk seeing how oddly I was walking to look down at him.</p><p>"Stop that," I grumbled, returning my gaze to look at the surrounding area. Not completely open, but there were enough still-standing trees to give us at least some cover should the need for them arise. Tubbo giggled underneath their breath, fiddling with the rubix cube that somehow managed to survive the journey across, unlike most of our supplies. He was no closer to solving it now than he was a month ago.</p><p>"Didn't say anything," They hummed, giving the cube one last good twist before inevitably giving up and sticking it back into the pocket of Dream's ridiculously sized clothes. They were a little loose on me, so one could only imagine how ill-fitting they were for Tubbo. Unfortunately for him, it seemed as though none of George's were in the bag he swiped.</p><p>"I know that face," I shot back, a much needed grin starting to rise on my face as well. "You definitely were." Tubbo enthusiastically shook their head, starting to play with the strap of the pack instead of the cube.</p><p>"You're seeing things man," He said with an innocent enough grin, the expression so eerily similar to before all this absurdity started. "I would <em>never</em>." For just that moment things felt normal, and if it weren't for the aches in my feet or the sogginess of the ground, I might've been tricked into thinking they were. Tubbo's laugh came so easily, and I suppose mine did as well, the purpose of our walk all but forgotten with the simple distraction.</p><p>"No shit, Tubbo," I scoffed, still smiling as soft chuckles escaped my mouth just after. "I only have one eye after all." Too late, I realized those perhaps weren't the best choice of words, as Tubbo's bright grin soon turned somber. The normalcy of the short conversation was lost as quick as it'd came, leaving us both remembering just how far away we were from our lives. As soon as their face fell, however, they picked it back up into a warm, calming smile.</p><p>"Remember when you told me we were in this together?" Tubbo asked serenely, watching as I nodded besides them, both a little bitter about cutting the teasing short and curious as to where he was going with this. Part of me wondered if he meant recently, right after he'd fallen from the cliff, or even back when we'd found Dream and George. But something told me he was talking about the first time, from way before. Before the cliff, before Dream lost it, and before George's death. Back when it was just the two of us, stuck in an arcade.</p><p>"Remember how I thought I was going to die?" Tubbo spoke almost casually, trying to cover the emotion in their voice with deep, long breaths, but not succeeding enough for me to be completely oblivious. "And how absolutely ridiculously stubborn you were?" I couldn't help but let a soft, quick laugh pass my lips at that, the memory of that queasy sensation revitalizing itself through my stomach once more, the one that eventually found its way up my throat and into my nightmares.</p><p>"But we got you out," I finished for him, sparing a noticeable glance down at the limp in Tubbo's walk that would probably never be fully recovered, but I tried for a smile nonetheless. "That's all that matters." Tubbo nodded along, most likely feeling the same wrench in their gut as I was, eyes lost in the water in front of us as we walked, face pulled into a reminiscent expression, trying to recall the memory without the pain and blood.</p><p>We had thought the arcade was safe, or at least the section we had holed ourselves into. Waking up in Dream and George's base, it took me a good while to remember where I'd seen something like it before, late that same night as I stayed wide awake to look at the stars that were always twinkling soothingly above. The fact that even the messy excuse of furniture resembled our old shelter should have been enough of a warning for both of us, but we ignored that, instead choosing to forget about the arcade altogether to settle into some sense of bliss.</p><p>My foot connected with the water for yet another step, making soft ripples and kicking the dirt loose before it eventually settled back to where it was. My gaze lingered on the soft waves for a moment longer than I meant to, remembering the much more violent ones that crashed down on both of us. The helplessness I felt as I was swept away and slammed into a wall, and the desperation seeing Tubbo trapped, their hopeless face, frantically trying to reach the surface from where he was pinned underneath the ferocious crashes of water pouring down upon us. The nightmares from that day had been mostly replaced with newer, fresher aches, but they had never fully disappeared. But they got out, and we were alive. That was all that mattered.</p><p>"Can we take a break now," Tubbo whined yet again, pulling me out of the dark thoughts that had found themselves at home in my mind. "I actually am really tired." They pouted at me, as though my decision from two minutes ago would have changed in the short span of time we spent chatting.</p><p>"Just a little longer, I promise," I told him as nicely as I could, his groaning drowning out my last few words, but eventually did huff and cross their arms, continuing to walk besides me with what looked like fake irritation.</p><p>"You're the worst," Tubbo whined, eyes away from me and back to the ground in front of them, pout gone but lips still turned into a light frown. I couldn't help but mock him a little, jumping right back into our habit of teasing each other endlessly. His tongue stuck out just enough for me to see, and I let loose a soft chuckle, causing Tubbo to roll his eyes, but a small smile graced their lips anyway. Just like always, our serious conversation was all but forgotten, if not for just a moment.</p><p>"You're just whiny," I shot back with a smirk, causing Tubbo to huff yet again, but gave me a light punch regardless of his sour face. He continued gazing out at the wasteland in front of us.</p><p>"Shut up man," Tubbo grumbled, going back to fiddling with his backpack straps. "You're worse tha- Hold on." For some reason, Tubbo cut their words short, brow furrowing and faltering with his steps. My hands reached instinctively for my vlog knife tucked into my pocket, my bat having been lost on our trip across, eyes snapping across the landscape. Tubbo merely held a hand over my pocket, a silent way of telling me I had no need to draw my short blade.</p><p>"There!" Tubbo whispered, almost excitedly, pointing at a spot far in the distance. Squinting, I hesitantly let my vlog knife fall back into my pocket, gazing in the direction Tubbo had been pointing to. A soft gasp escaped my lips, and I couldn't quite be sure if I should be happy or concerned. Seeing as how we were eating on a day-by-day basis, I decided to take it as a good omen, an excellent opportunity to scavenge.</p><p>"Let's go," I insisted, already beginning to pick up my pace in my restless anticipation as I shifted our course slightly to walk towards the remains of some destroyed, deserted town. There was a quiet groan of complaint from Tubbo behind me, but I paid it little mind, instead beckoning for them to hurry up and match my strides. There were faint grumbles he whispered underneath his breath behind me, but eventually caught up with my faster-than-normal pace.</p><p>"Can't you- Just slow down," Tubbo spluttered, and while I will admit that I was perhaps moving a bit faster than necessary, the trek to the rubble wasn't so far as Tubbo made it out to be. "Tommy, just chill." I sighed, letting Tubbo catch up to me, and we continued at our usual pace, which is to say, slowly.</p><p>The closer we got to the remains, the stranger they appeared. Compared to all of the other towns we had passed through, this one was abnormally large, perhaps a city before everything collapsed. From afar all that could be seen was a sort of hazy silhouette, but upon closer inspection, we could see that it stretched on farther than we could see in either direction, the buildings that remained partly standing much more tightly packed and larger than from the towns we passed in England.</p><p>It felt strange entering these remains, a chill weaving its way through my veins the further we ventured, but still we trekked on pausing occasionally to rummage through the debris left behind of what had to be a neighborhood. We stayed silent and vigilant, unsure of whether or not to turn back, seeing as how a city this large would surely have other vagabonds such as ourselves wandering its flooded and broken streets. Perhaps after thirty minutes of climbing and trudging our way past collapsed concrete we saw our first sign of life. Thankfully we spotted them before they spotted us, our hushed whispers immediately falling quiet as we ducked behind a sharp wall that jutted out to provide us cover.</p><p>"Holy fuck," I breathed, heart pulsing much too fast for my liking, the thrumming felt through my shirt as I lay fingers atop it. Tubbo was curled up besides me into himself, as though making themselves smaller would keep the stranger from sensing us. My thoughts immediately flashed back to the gang from so long ago, how that man managed to sneak up on me in my moment of distraction. My breath hitched, and with wide eyes I brought myself to peek around the corner.</p><p>It was a woman. She was on shorter side and rather muscular, not yet middle-aged but not far from it either. A large, thick blade was nestled into her hands, that while not having a long reach, was a much better weapon that my vlog knife, and judging by her stone-faced demeanor, she knew how to use it very well. There was no chance in hell I could take her alone, but together we had a good chance of surviving. I continued staring as she moved, organizing who knows what into her pack, her back turned to us.</p><p>"We can sneak around her," Tubbo whispered to me, having angled themselves to catch a view as well. From this close I could see the slight shaking in their hands despite his efforts to suppress it and heard his breathing. Calm and collected as it could be. I did my best to copy it, giving the woman one last glance as I took deep breaths to force my nerves back down my throat.</p><p>"We can... Jump her," I suggested, hand already grabbing my vlog knife in one hand, a particularly heavy stone in the other. Tubbo drew their attention away from the woman, staring at me with wider eyes than from before, apprehension and uncertainty written clearly on his face.</p><p>"What are you-" Tubbo spluttered, having backed away from his viewpoint to get a better look at me. "You can't be serious, Tommy." His whispering became harsher as he leaned in closer to me, as though their slight intimidation could get me to change the words that had spilled from my mouth. I ignored their imploring eyes, casting my gaze back over to the woman, who seemed just about ready to depart with her freshly packed belongings.</p><p>"Think about it man," I shot back, my whispering gaining its own sharp edge to it as I spoke. "We need supplies so, so badly, and she has <em>tons </em>from what we saw. If we just-" Tubbo settled themselves somewhat back into where he had been sitting before, although now the dread from before was more or less replaced with irritation, all of it directed at me.</p><p>"We can't just do things like that, Tommy," Tubbo interrupted, and I was tempted to let out a humorous chuckle, continuing to grip the stone tightly in my hands, itching for whatever the hell was in that bag. "She probably needs it just as much as we do. It's not worth the risk, anyway."</p><p>"Oh, don't tell me you care about ethics all of a sudden," I barked as quietly as I could, seriously wishing this conversation would hurry up, the woman sure to either hear or leave should this keep up. "Remember Dream? Newsflash: He's probably dead by now, because <em>you </em>took all of his shit. Let's not forget George either. We might not have killed him like that lady, but his death is still because of <em>us</em>, so I suggest you either shut the fuck up and help me, or just stay put."</p><p>Perhaps I was a bit too harsh, but I couldn't help it. The hunger was getting to me, and I wasn't about to let a perfectly good opportunity for a meal get away if I could help it. Tubbo merely sat there dumbfounded, astounded with their mouth agape, taking a second to take in my words. They soon got over their shock though, eyes narrowing and brows furrowing as he seemed to get over their speechlessness. Another voice spoke up before he could, though.</p><p>Both of us paused at the soft voice, hesitant to turn back around the corner, and I was sure the voice I heard wasn't imagined from Tubbo's uncertain face, mine surely something similar. My hold on my stone loosened, and I gently let it slide back into the shallow, murky water soundlessly. The pent up frustration from our several days of travel lessened, although not completely as I snuck a peek back at the woman.</p><p>There was a child standing besides her now, somehow having gone unnoticed by us both. I couldn't tell if my hands were sweaty or merely wet from the swamp, but I traced them against the crumbled wall mindlessly nonetheless, eyeing the pair intensely. They seemed to be about six or so, the coat draped over them so large that the hem was dangerously close to the water's surface. I hadn't been able to understand what the kid said, but the woman nodded with a smile, extending her hand out to the small child that didn't even look like her. The kid grinned, cheerfully grabbing her hand, proceeding to walk side-by-side deeper into the ruined city with the woman. Tubbo must have joined me at some point, and we watched them both silently as they vanished from our view behind the tumbled remains.</p><p>"Let's go," Tubbo mumbled lamentably, picking himself up from where he was crouched, extending their hand for me to stand as well. Silently, I nodded, not having anything to say as I stood back up as well. I assumed Tubbo had nothing to say either, and like always, it seemed as though we were simply going to ignore and forget what just happened, probably never going to be brought up again.</p><p>My head hung low as we marched, footsteps making horrible squalshing sounds as we trudged forward, following more or less the same path as the woman and kid. Was I ashamed? If I was being honest, not really, and while I wondered as to why Tubbo was so hesitant to follow my plan, I suppose it could be understandable. I was still ravished, though, and I was sure Tubbo was still desperate to take a longer break, so I wasn't really sure as to why we were still walking. Maybe it was a way to keep our minds off of what just happened, giving us some twisted sense of purpose instead of allowing us time to reflect and sulk. We tended to do this a lot, I found.</p><p>Tubbo was a little ahead of me, so I closed the space so we were side by side once more, his small strides easy to catch up with. Their hands fidgeted with the straps of the backpack slung carelessly against their back, nothing if real value in it besides a spare set of clothes and the sharpened pipe. And I suppose the waterproof briefcase containing my journal. Tubbo barely glanced at me, but upon seeing me besides him, they swiftly shifted from my left to my right side, although they kept their eyes forward after that, giving me no acknowledgement besides that.</p><p>I smiled softly anyway, holding my hand out for Tubbo. Without glancing down, he accepted, giving it a light squeeze. A heavy breath passed through me, and even though we unlinked our hands, a small weight was lifted from me, and judging from Tubbo's posture the same could be said for them as well. We remained quiet, yet together.</p><p>After less than half an hour of walking, I tilted my head, reaching out besides me to hold a hand in front of Tubbo. He seemed confused for a second, yet stopped walking so as to listen besides me. "What the hell..." I mumbled, exchanging glances with Tubbo, who merely shrugged, expression just as confused as mine. We stood still for a moment longer, the sound of various voices audible now that we weren't splashing the water with every step.</p><p>"A gang?" Tubbo wondered aloud besides me, already making his way towards the nearest cover despite how far away the boisterous voices were. I was tempted to agree as I followed, but hesitated.</p><p>"Do you think a gang would be so... Large?" We had only encountered two gangs before now: The one from three weeks ago from our 'battle' with Dream and George, and another we merely saw from afar. Neither had more than a handful of members, and neither were anywhere near as loud as what we were hearing, despite being so far away.</p><p>"Should we?" Tubbo asked, gesturing to the ruckus with his head, both concerned and curious at once. I suppose I was more or less the same, yet still hesitated before advancing towards the noise. On one hand, the possibility of getting brutally murdered was high, with no real upsides on the other. Tubbo continued staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to follow their hesitant first step. There was another pang in my stomach, this time one that clawed at my innards, causing my already pained body another small wave of agony. I bit my lip, silently praying that even if this was a gang, that they would at least have some food that was easy to snatch. Tubbo readied his pipe as I whipped out my vlog knife, keeping our steps silent through the marsh.</p><p>It took us a while, but eventually we found ourselves at a short wall that jutted out just enough so as to cover us, the land high enough so that it was unlikely anyone would find us if they weren't looking for us. The bustling and ruckus was now so loud that it almost sounded like home, although I could barely understand a word that was being said. Perhaps I should have taken French as my foreign language.</p><p>Tubbo crouched down, peeking past the wall similar to before to see the terrain below us. A soft gasp escaped him, and with a smile, beckoned me to do the same. The nervousness from before seemed to have released its hold on him, if not only a little, hopeful and promising eyes lingering on the sight in front of them, and instead of hiding himself behind the cover once more, took a step forward.</p><p>"What are you doing!" I hissed, risking a peep past the crumbling edges myself despite the thrumming in my chest, only to have the smallest of gasps pass through my lips as well. Tubbo was stood idly besides me, taking it all in, and while it wasn't much, it was perhaps one of the most welcome sights I'd ever seen.</p><p>"Holy shit," I muttered, the grip I'd had on the wall releasing as I stared wide-eyed at the town sprawled in front of us. It seemed to be a sort of disordered market, all the stalls haphazardly built from whatever material could be found. There were people wandering the flooded streets, their lively voices having carried from all the way over here. There were so many sights around me it was hard to take in at once, things I had never expected to see again suddenly laid out in front of me.</p><p>Tubbo tugged my sleeve, and I absentmindedly followed, allowing him to pull me into the thin, crowded paths that had just enough room for perhaps four people at a time. Nobody took any notice of us, instead going about their way with plenty of shoving, leaving us be as we passed through. Tubbo and I huddled close, our hands slipping back together for fear of loosing each other in the crowd as we made our way deeper into the remains of some French city, so far without being stabbed, mugged, or a combination of the two.</p><p>My eyes flitted over the various stalls, which for the most part sold various assortments of trinkets, or basically anything that was still in one piece from the earthquake. A few sold weapons, another medicine, and for some depressing reason, none of them seemed to be offering any food, earning a rumble from my stomach. There were several types of 'stalls', ranging from cloth draped over the ground to some strange balance of rubble into a vague stall form. We did little more than glance them over and eye a few ongoing trades, but otherwise kept walking despite how sore our feet were.</p><p>Neither of us had any idea where we were going, but neither wanted to stop walking. Tubbo was still taking the lead, dragging me along behind them, walking with a purpose unknown to me. Perhaps they were simply fascinated with the place, or searching for a vendor with food, or even just wishing to find us a place to stay for a break. There weren't exactly many places to sit with all these people brushing past, who with every slight shove caused me to flinch and have a brief, silent fit.</p><p>"How many do you think there are here?" Tubbo wondered aloud, his voice somehow easy to distinguish against all the others. "There has to be a few hundred in this place alone." I nodded distractedly again, ignoring how my legs wanted to collapse and stomach fold in on itself as I continued watching the sheer number of people surrounding us. I wasn't taking in any of their faces, if I was being honest, merely walking through the ruined streets, observing with only a bit of indifference and a whole lot of worry. They simply passed by so quickly I could hardly do anything more anyway.</p><p>But there was one person that stood out, surprisingly. He was leaned up against a wall, torn up hoodie engulfing most of his torso, tattered jeans awfully worn and faded. His black hair was matted from not being washed, dark eyes focused on the ground and arms crossed across his chest, as though he were simply standing there thinking. I don't think Tubbo noticed him, and I was genuinely surprised I managed to spot him from the mass of people swarming by.</p><p>"Tubbo, wait," I called out, and he turned around with curious, wondrous eyes, following my finger to where I pointed out the figure resting against a only partly crumbled wall. His expression matched what I assume mine must have been when their eyes landed on his unkempt form, something between doubt and uncertainty, and perhaps a little bit of relief as well.</p><p>"No fucking way," Tubbo muttered, voice lost to the crowd, forcing me to lip-read. It wasn't too hard, considering I was thinking the same. There were already so many things that happened lately, that I guess I was already too shocked to fully comprehend just how strange this encounter was. The figure didn't seem to notice us as we pressed our way forward, only seeming to become aware of our presence when we stood two feet in front of him. He glanced up with tired eyes, both of us too speechless to introduce ourselves to the familiar face. He seemed confused for a second, our faces either unrecognizable in our disheveled state, or he simply hadn't thought he'd seen us again.</p><p>"Hi Skeppy," I said, for some reason unable to bring myself to smile as we looked each other over. His back straightened, which did little seeing as how I still towered over him, although I assumed it was more of an instinct to what was now an unused name. "It's us, Tommy and Tubbo." At that his eyes widened, lips thinning into a line as his body stiffened, still not uttering a word or bothering to look us over, instead staring directly at me with a face I'd never seen on him before.</p><p>At first I couldn't quite place it, only knowing it caused a shudder down my spine. I felt Tubbo's hand squeeze mine, as though feeling the same off sensation as me. Skeppy finally reacted to our arrival, taking a deep breath and lowering his gaze so that I could no longer see the eerie emotion in his eyes. His upper lip twitched, and we watched as he tried to compose himself, although the shaking of his hand made it clear that he was only mildly succeeding. He did not smile or greet us, only bringing his gaze back up to stare at me.</p><p>Finally, I realized just what his expression was. Skeppy continued staring at me, eyes holding nothing but pure, unadulterated abhorrence.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Pit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tommy POV</b>
</p><p>The first few minutes of our meeting were rather awkward.</p><p>Skeppy took a deep breath, wiping the glare from his face and trying to relax his posture, instead switching his gaze over to Tubbo to examine them as well. There were dark bags under his eyes, exhaustion evident from the weary way he leaned against the wall. Like ourselves, scars littered his visible skin, though notably less so on him, tears in his baggy clothes giving him a rugged, unapproachable look that covered up how thin his frame was.</p><p>"Why are you two alive," He grumbled, his question peculiar, but I guess fair. His formless hair fell into his face, covering up how his lifeless eyes stared downward. Compared to him, I'd say we looked rather healthy.</p><p>"We just didn't die," Tubbo answered helpfully, and I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. The water that  was rather warmer than usual, perhaps because of all the people that trudged through its murky, disturbed sludge. The particles at our feet had already begun to settle, or were trying to at least, the constant shuffling of the people behind us making it difficult for it to do so. Tubbo and I remained close so that nobody weaved between us, hands still interlocked.</p><p>"Good for you," Skeppy mumbled, not even bothering at an attempt at covering up how apathetic he sounded, the hostility from before dropping. He drew his eyes from wherever he had been looking, instead averting his gaze to the side so as to not glance at either of us. It was only then that I realized that Skeppy had been looking at our intertwined hands, a bit of guilt beginning to claw its way up my throat. Skeppy noticed when I let my hand fall out from the grasp but said nothing of it, instead pushing himself off his wall slightly so that his weight rested on his feet once more.</p><p>"Have any food?" Skeppy asked, gesturing towards the mostly empty pack on my back, his hunger visible from his longing stare. I shook my head, not bothering to admit that we ourselves were starving when a frown overtook his lips once more. "Whatever, I guess," He said, ruffling his messy and frayed hair with sluggish fingers.</p><p>"How long have you been here?" I asked despite my hesitancy, curiosity eventually overtaking it. Skeppy brought his gaze back up to meet mine, shoving his hands into the ratty remains of his hoodie pocket.</p><p>"Too long," He answered, his response edgy, yet not completely unexpected given his shift in demeanor from the last time we spoke. I suppose after all this time in the end of the world, a change in personality could be expected. I certainly hadn't expected him to be as perky and smug as before. While I hadn't exactly known him exceptionally well, I still considered us at least somewhat friends, our relationship shaky at worst. But looking at him now, I couldn't help but wonder if this was even the same person anymore. He certainly looked different enough if that were the case.</p><p>Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on him though. The memory of the roughness of Tubbo's pole in my hands came back to me, how all the scratches and nicks felt under my skin. The leader's face was staring up at me so cockily and confident, and without hardly any hesitation I drove it deep into her chest. The blood that splattered on me that day was proof that I changed as well, no matter how much Tubbo and I still acted like the same from before all this hell broke loose. I guess Skeppy just got tired of pretending.</p><p>"What the hell?" Tubbo muttered, voice lost to the sudden crowd that had sparked up, our attention all drawn to the boisterous ruckus being made further down the street. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw an awfully thick crowd of people in the distance, all standing in a sort of clearing made in the center of the rubble. There weren't so many as to be spilling out in the 'streets', but still plenty enough so that their cheering and shouting could be heard over almost everything else, all huddled around a smaller clearing in the center, although I couldn't manage to see what was in it.</p><p>"What the fuck is going on," I shouted loud enough for Skeppy to hear me, but he merely raised his brows and tilted his head. The streets we found ourselves in was thinning out quite rapidly from people either moving towards or away from whatever was going on in the huddle, leaving only a few stragglers like ourselves and the vendors. Although now that I thought about it, the further to the center we got, the less of them there were.</p><p>"You haven't been here very long, have you," Skeppy shouted back with minimal enthusiasm, and when we both shook our heads, he sighed, biting his bottom lip as he stared out at the obnoxious crowd. "Fine. I haven't seen one in a while anyway." And with that, he started making his way back to join the masses that had more or less settled by now, never once checking to see if we were still trailing behind. Even though we were absolutely beat from hours of walking and nearly starving, we pressed forward, too curious about what was going on to say no.</p><p>As we approached, I realized there pieces of broken remains and fallen walls put together to form steps of some sort for those on the outside to see easier, almost like a stadium. There was hardly any space on it, but Skeppy somehow managed to slide his way into it, receiving several glares as he did so. He merely lowered his tattered hood and stood in silence, tilting his head to give us a bored expression. I supposed he wanted us to join him.</p><p>The roaring was much louder here, echoing through my ears so that it was all I could hear. I slipped my hand back into Tubbo's as we focused on the dull blue hue of Skeppy's hoodie, parting through the people that were packed there with some difficulty, but overall, nobody seemed to care that we were contributing to the immense amount of shoving going on. I reached a point where I could see the center now. My eyes widened and my breath hitched. Tubbo was considerably shorter than me and still had yet to see it, and upon seeing my reaction, he stood on his tiptoes with raised brows, the same horrified expression rising in their face as well.</p><p>There were two kids down there. One was a girl, a little older than us, the second a boy that was significantly younger. The water was up to their lower calves, the ground in the middle where they stood having been trenched out slightly, forming a small, circular crater in the soggy earth, perhaps five inches deep and what seemed to be ten feet wide. They were both bleeding, blood seeping into their clothes and dripping down their scarred flesh, although I wasn't too sure if all of it was theirs or not.</p><p>The heat of everybody packed besides me in this thick wall of people only added to my breathlessness as I watched the pair. The girl's hair had fallen out from her ponytail and was now all over her face, but she paid it no mind, instead advancing towards the smaller child with such vigor he barely had time to dodge as she swiped her knife towards him, the glint of the red blade reflecting in the sun. The boy huffed, out of breath as she went for another strike, not nearly as experienced as her. His footing was off, stance unbalanced, but at least he was quicker, able to dodge easily. Judging by the shouts from the crowd, I could only assume they were getting tired of this repetitive game they had been playing.</p><p>A scream left the boy's throat as the girl finally managed to slice his arm, sending droplets of blood cascading in a glistening wave. He stumbled, fumbling with his own knife, only managing to nick her outer wrist, a small trail of the crimson liquid flowing down her arm, her only acknowledgement of her injury being the uncontrollable flinch that passed through her face. She swung again, cursing something in French when the boy wiggled his way out from her blow, yet again swinging desperately with his own short blade.</p><p>She lunged again, and this time he stood his ground, positioning his rusted and blood-splattered blade in front of him in the last second. The girl's eyes widened, a piercing scream leaving her mouth as her stomach plowed straight into the waiting metal. She fumbled and the boy pulled it back out of her with a sharp twist, her arm swinging in the boy's general direction, but he merely stepped away, watching as she crashed to the ground, desperately gasping and screaming as she writhed, hands clawing at her stomach as though trying to push the blood back in. A small smile of relief passed the boys lips, running a hand over his newest injury to his arm as he watched her groaning on the ground. There were cheers from the audience, but so many more shouts of anger and displeasure.</p><p>I continued staring in shock, mouth agape as I watched the girl slowly stop struggling, not a soul acknowledging how her body was becoming eerily still. There was a soft gasp from Tubbo behind me, but neither of us said nothing, simply watching with wide eyes as the boy turned back towards the crowd, letting his blade drop into the water with a soft splash. </p><p>There was a tug on my shirt, and I felt myself being pulled backwards away from the gruesome sight. I didn't even bother trying to fight it as I slipped through the crowd, seeing Tubbo get hauled right along besides me. When we broke through I completely forgot about the drop, still too caught up on the fight I had just seen. I fell rather unceremoniously onto the ground, Tubbo nearly tripping over the ledge as well, managing to catch himself at the last second. They extended a hand for me to stand, and I eventually did manage to get back onto my shaky legs, both of us forcing deep breaths to calm ourselves after that ordeal.</p><p>"What was that..." My voice cracked a little, and if I was being honest, I couldn't quite place why I was so upset. It's not like I hadn't seen corpses or even fights before, after all. Tubbo seemed to have regained their cool, so I held my breath for a moment, holding my quivering hand to my chest, forcing my breathing to stop hitching. Skeppy raised a bored brow at me, but merely gestured for us to follow him once again through the streets, heading onto another road than the one we found him on.</p><p>"That was the pit," He explained helpfully, once again not really caring if we were following behind him or not as we walked. "There's usually a couple dogfights every other day or so like that one. Sometimes they make it, and sometimes they don't."</p><p>"Why are they fighting though?" Tubbo asked, sliding himself into my right side as usual, but walking a little faster to catch up with Skeppy despite his obvious exhaustion. I had to admit, the same question was on my mind, but Skeppy merely rolled his eyes.</p><p>"Isn't it obvious?" He grumbled, pushing his way through the streets, the crowd thickening the closer we got to wherever it was Skeppy was taking us. "Food, entertainment. Not really any better way to spend time here anyway." Tubbo muttered something underneath their breath while my expression to one of shock, although it seemed as though Skeppy acknowledged our surprise, instead continuing to walk.</p><p>"But how?" Tubbo started, brows furrowed as they thought back to 'The Pit', as Skeppy had called it. Skeppy sighed tiredly, nose scrunching as though debating as to whether or not bother explaining it to us. He waded through the murky water, avoiding almost everyone that was in his path, eventually caving in to Tubbo's question, although perhaps the only reason he did so was because he had nothing better to do anyways.</p><p>"It's like a gambling ring," Skeppy grumbled, hacking out a small, dry cough. "People place bets on who they think will win, and if they're right, they get more supplies than what they started with. Simple." Apparently that was what constituted as an explanation for Skeppy. Needless to say, Tubbo and I still had quite a few concerns about the pit.</p><p>"That boy was probably only fourteen though," I insisted, now walking a bit closer to Skeppy than he would have preferred to keep from losing him as the crowds surrounded us once again. "Why the hell weren't they using adults?" Skeppy's hand lingered stiffly in his hoodie pocket, the dull shine of the blade not hidden very well at all through the several tears in the damaged cloth. I sincerely hoped his fiddling with the handle was more of a habit, and not because we were pestering him.</p><p>"They're good," Skeppy said calmly, now walking alongside the crumbled walls of the long road, the vendors not seeming to be settled in this area. "Adults are predictable. Kids are inexperienced; they make stupid mistakes. That girl from today was totally winning, but she rushed right into his knife. Keeps it interesting." Should I feel sick? Yes, I suppose I should have, but logically it did make quite a bit of sense. I held my tongue and said nothing of it, Tubbo doing much the same as we continued our walk in silence, the throbbing in my soles now unbearable, but I didn't dare complain to his sour attitude.</p><p>"Just so you know," Skeppy said dryly, his tone coming out more morbid than anything as he stopped in place, turning around to glance behind at us. I would have asked what exactly was special about this place, seeing as how it looked more or less just like the rest of the path we'd been trekking upon, but I instead met Skeppy's gaze, that like before, seemed to hold some sort of resentment in them. </p><p>"I'm not taking care of you two." The bitterness in his eyes was leaking out as he spoke, scowling slightly as he turned his sight to Tubbo. "Honestly, I shouldn't have even let you follow me this long. You're both a waste of my time, but I need some allies. Don't expect anything from me, and I won't expect anything from you. Got it?" His expression was hard, and while I was quite a bit taller than him, I still felt rather intimidated by his stony face and stiff posture. I noted that his hands had yet to release the handle of his blade.</p><p>"Why should we though," Tubbo interjected quietly, burying their hands into the oversized hoodie draped over his shoulders. "Be allies, I mean. You've been nothing but mean since we met. I'm surprised you even want us around." Skeppy paused, arm stiffening slightly. Tubbo did have a fair point, seeing as how this was very clearly a more matured, or should I say harrowed person that the one we knew before. Simply knowing him was not a good enough reason for us to stick with him, not after our experience with Dream and George.</p><p>"I really don't," Skeppy answered after a moment of thought, turning to face Tubbo more seriously than before. "Go on you're own or to a stranger, it's none of my damn business, but just know that there's strength in numbers. It's just how this place works. I'd rather have you two pissing me off than someone I don't know I guess. Now, you done having a hissy fit or do we have a deal."</p><p>"Sure," I replied, trying to match his level of harshness, but only succeeded in getting a voice crack. Skeppy scrunched his nose again, mumbling something inaudible under his breath as he gestured for us to once again follow him. </p><p>When he slipped into a barely stable hole in the wall besides us, I glanced around once again, realizing for perhaps the first time that this area was residential, people slipping in and our of similar holes in their walls that served as something like a door. Some had more practical chunks cut out, and some had tarps and such covering them, while others such as Skeppy merely crawled in through haphazard nooks and crannies. </p><p>My breath hitched as Tubbo made to follow the older man, taking note of how eerie the resemblance to our old shelters this entire block was. It was as though the residents were trying to rebuild the same sense of normalcy from before the earthquake, but clearly not doing a very good job of it if the constant flashing of weapon were any indication. Tubbo crawled into the death trap, the roof having collapsed inside of it already, all that was left to follow being the measly walls that were barely holding themselves upright. My fingers traced over the entrance for a moment, recalling the arcade once more, now accompanied by the grim memory of those grisly gang members outside Dream and George's makeshift home.</p><p>I suppose those memories hardly mattered anymore, just like the rest of them. None of the heartache or agony from the weeks before mattered, and all the memories of my family and scars were nothing more but grim reminders to keep going. So I took a deep breath and followed Tubbo, slowly and cautiously, ignoring the small flecks of concrete that fluttered into my face as my hands brushed against the delicate door. I emerged into an unflattering slump to put it lightly, the rubbish decor somehow managing to make the small 'home' even more unwelcoming.</p><p>The place was somehow even more cramped and constrictive than the small niche Dream and George had carved out for themselves, seeming to be the remnants of a room rather than a house, and a smaller one at that. Something resembling a mattress was propped by the wall, made out of various uncomfortable objects piled together to try and be less uncomfortable than sleeping on the sodden floor. A spare jacket was tossed haphazardly onto it, worn and torn just the same as the one he was wearing. Meager supplies were tossed into an elevated corner to keep the water out of them, including a selection of weapons, assorted garments, and random knick-knacks, but surprisingly, no visible food.</p><p>Tubbo finally collapsed from their exhaustion, settling themselves onto the hardened, rugged floor, at last getting a rest from the weary trek. I had to admit, my feet were more than killing me as well, so I settled myself down next to him, groaning softly as I sat on an uncomfortable piece of crumbled wall. Skeppy gave me a singular glance before turning his attention away once more, standing still over his bed for a moment, face obscured from us.</p><p>This was the same guy I watched when I was younger, this broken and worn-down man with greasy hair was one of the reasons I myself became a Youtuber. Perhaps we hadn't been the best of friends while everything had been normal, and I will admit I certainly did nothing to help if that were the case. Perhaps now that we've found each other, we could get a fresh start, even with his new, solitary attitude. A re-do from Dream and George if we were lucky, one that wouldn't end in bloodshed and death the way that did. He must have felt my eyes on him because he promptly turned around, brows furrowed yet eyes somehow still deplorably empty.</p><p>"You can go get your food on the outskirts that way," He said blandly, shuffling through his measly pile of belongings in the corner, limply pointing a finger in the opposite direction from when we came, as though he couldn't be bothered to say more. "I'll be back tonight, and if I find that you've even <em>touched </em>my shit..." He got up, stuffing a something shiny so quickly into his pocket that I couldn't even see it, making a slicing motion across his neck. His narrowed eyes showed that he meant nothing but business.</p><p>"Of course," I choked, and Skeppy nodded with a displeased face, fiddling with the small object in his pocket as he walked by me, ready to exit the pitiful excuse of a home once more. "Stay safe," I called out nonchalantly, something I found I'd often say to Dream and George before they left for a hunt. He paused just before exiting, unable to control the face of resentment that flashed across him as he looked back towards me.</p><p>"Hope you die in a ditch," He snapped back, muttering something underneath his breath that sounded quite a lot like 'Bitch Boy' after he slipped back out of his makeshift doorway. Tubbo and I both sat there surprised for a second, neither of us quite sure what to make of this last interaction. To be fair, I wasn't quite sure what to make of any of our few interactions with Skeppy, yet this one seemed to be one of my top five most unpleasant with the man, which is a considerable amount of unpleasant interactions, seeing as how we've only been here for perhaps half an hour.</p><p>"Delightful," Tubbo snorted, popping of his shoe to try and massage the pain out from his foot in an awkward angle. I couldn't resist a chuckle from that, leaning my head back against the wall, listening for the comforting sounds of various people's unintelligible conversations just behind it. I was more than tempted to merely close my eyes after that, not wanting to think, just to ignore. Ignoring seemed to help us survive a whole lot better than thinking, as I'd found.</p><p>"How you holding up," Tubbo asked, moving onto his other foot. A miserable laugh passed through my lips as I forced my head to tilt to see Tubbo, who was on my right, just like always.</p><p>"Same as you," I answered with a half-smile and a painfully hungry stomach.</p><p>"So absolutely miserable," Tubbo chuckled as well, pressing a hand down onto their injured knee, as though that would knock his limp out of the broken leg. "This is sure as hell going to be an interesting entry, huh? A whole city, and we've only seen the surface." Their face seemed as though it couldn't decide whether to be hopeful or hesitant, but they smiled nonetheless, trying to distract us from our awfully wrenching hunger with a bit of lightheartedness in the conversation. Just like always.</p><p>"The surface wasn't exactly wonderful," I grumbled, recalling seeing the shaking of that girls body as the blade pierced right through her stomach's flesh and organs, then pulled right out to show the brutal display of gore in mere seconds. Tubbo hummed in agreement, resting their head against the wall like I was.</p><p>"Maybe it will get better," He said quietly, giving the room a vague gesture. "We can survive here, maybe even have some peace. That'd be nice." Tubbo seemed just about ready to fall asleep, the weariness of guard duty from last night surely starting to take its toll on them.</p><p>"Together?" I asked, every reminder of our pact taking just a bit of stress of my already burdened shoulders.</p><p>"Of course," Tubbo answered after a moment. "Always."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Preparing for The Fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tommy Pov</b>
</p><p>
  <em>There were no corpses in this section of the arcade. Tubbo was asleep on the booth table, having padded it with spare uniforms to make it semi-comfortable. I was fiddling with the metallic box we found in some store, clicking through all the combinations one at a time, leaning on the wall besides them. There was a rumbling sound somewhere to my right.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I turned, backing away from the wall, preparing to wake Tubbo. I shouted, but no sound came out. Then the wall broke. Tubbo's eyes opened blearily, not seeing the huge wave of water that had suddenly crashed into our safe haven. I screamed again, and this time, I think Tubbo heard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I couldn't feel anything as I was swept away and tossed against the other wall. I gasped as all of the air left my lungs, the bubbles being lost as soon as they came in the raging currents. The wave crashed, and I had a brief moment to gasp before I was pulled back under again, the only thing keeping me from being swept away being the wall I kept being thrashed against.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I opened my eyes in the murk, desperately holding my breath and clawing for something to hold on to. Another wave brought me further down, and I grabbed onto the railing, scanning for Tubbo in the cloudy water of the flash flood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was hard to see through all the blood, but he was just where I left him; On the table, unable to reach the surface like I was because of the chunk wall that was pinning them by the leg to the hard plastic. Tubbo's eyes were screaming at me, trying to claw and worm his way out from underneath the rock, and with every twist and turn they winced, the dark red cloud surrounding them getting thicker by the second. There was something completely feral in Tubbo at the moment, the feeling of helplessness that was overtaking them seeping into me as well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I reached forward, screaming, and Tubbo screamed back. There was another wave, sending me crashing through the wall, and I felt myself get carried away by the currents. Tubbo's gaze was upon me as I was swept away, such utter despair in their eyes causing me to weep as I continued struggling against the roaring waters, desperate to reach Tubbo again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The waters didn't stop though. They kept yanking me further away every time I felt as though I got closer, as though taunting me by telling me there was no point in my struggle. Tubbo's dying image was too strong in my mind, and I kept fighting it anyway.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then a pair of hands pushed down on my face, sending me underneath the waves. I tried clawing them of me, breathlessness overtaking me as they held me firmly in the blood-stained water. This was Tubbo's blood, I was sure, because I hadn't saved them in time. I wept, convulsions ravaging my body as I choked, not even bothering to pry the hand off, instead letting the last bubbles float from my mouth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck it... What was even the point anymore...</em>
</p><p>My body jerked itself awake to the sound of intense scribbling, followed by the sound of scratching as well. Blearily, I fluttered my eyes open, body still laying uncomfortably on the surprisingly still-dry ground I had fallen asleep on, the backpack I'd been using as a pillow giving me an aching crick in my neck. The moonlight was still somewhat bright, letting me see half of Tubbo's face in its rays, the rest of them shadowed in a silhouette.</p><p>They were sitting up, leaned against the crumbling wall that served as our shelter, pen in hand as they scrawled onto the brown-covered book that had begun serving as our journal. His brows were furrowed, deep in concentration as they wrote in the half-light provided from the lack of a ceiling. I lay staring at them in my impaired state, merely watching them for longer than necessary before realizing that it was rather unlikely that I would fall back asleep. So I made a sort of groaning sound as I stretched, cracking my neck from its awkward position and yawning wide as I moved to lay on my stomach.</p><p>"Hi Tommy," Tubbo whispered, the sounds of Skeppy's light snores occasionally being heard over the constant buzz that went on outside, thankfully less noisy during the night. I grunted in response, angling myself so I could see him properly, and as expected, the darkness under his eyes was visible even from where I lay. Tubbo must have noticed my eyes shifting to the journal that was still open on his lap, letting the pen fall back into its place in the spine.</p><p>"I didn't wake you, did I?" He asked, still whispering as to not wake Skeppy. This was our fourth day staying with the man, and so far, everything seemed as though it wouldn't turn out horribly wrong. Sure, he threw a fit when we woke him on our first night here, but other than that, he more or less kept to himself, not bothering us and expecting not to be bothered in return. So far it seemed to be a good system; Tubbo and I got shelter, and we honestly weren't quite sure what Skeppy got in return, but every once in a while he'd ask to pick off our food and we felt obliged to at least not let him starve to death. I wasn't fooled by the same sense of security Skeppy seemed to feel in this ragtag base. Not after Dream and George.</p><p>"No," I croaked, voice hoarse and honestly not as quiet as it should probably be. "It's too cold." That was a complete lie, seeing as how my extra jacket was doing little to keep out the ever-chilling night air out, but I wasn't quite in the mood for discussing the truth. Tubbo nodded understandingly, not bothering to shoo me away when I fumbled my way over to his side over the rough and rocky surface of the ground below. Tubbo pulled on the edge of the pathetic blanket that was draped over him so that I could use its miserable excuse of warmth as well. I snuggled myself into the thin sheet, leaning back against the wall, the same as Tubbo, just wanting to get the vision from my nightmare out from my mind.</p><p>"Why're you writing?" I asked, throat still too sore to whisper properly. They fiddled with the tip of the pen that stuck out of the spiral, gazing at the closed cover of our journal. The question was more solemn than I had intended, and I guess Tubbo must have picked up on that.</p><p>"You haven't written in it for a while," Tubbo explained softly, voice quiet and somber enough so that there was really no point in whispering. "Thought someone should." My gaze shifted down to the scratched-at cover, falling silent besides my friend. If I was being honest, after a while it felt as though the pages had somehow having gotten heavier, the pressure in my chest as I would scribble down yet another depressing tale for the day soon getting rather unpleasant. So one day I just stopped writing in it, merely carrying it around stupidly, unwilling to read what I had written in my sloppy writing. There really wasn't a point to it anyway.</p><p>"But why," I asked again, looking straight at them with my good eye, causing Tubbo to return the gaze. He sighed after a moment, eyes shifting over to Skeppy's sleeping figure.</p><p>"I don't know," Tubbo answered, still using that soft tone, laced with honesty and uncertainty "I guess it makes me feel... grounded? I liked it when you wrote it. Made at least something feel normal." Oddly enough, I knew exactly what they meant. It was the exact reason I hadn't been writing in it, I supposed. Another grim reminder that things could never be the same, as if the ever-growing number of entries that were all more or less the same weren't enough already.</p><p>There wasn't a doubt in my mind that Tubbo and I hadn't grown closer after the whole 'end of the world', and I knew that there was no one I would rather put my trust in than Tubbo, at times even feeling as though we were in total synchrony. But there were sometimes, like now, where I can't help but realize just how different we could be. Tubbo could be both hard or soft when the time was right, whereas I found myself falling apart when I should be tough, or holding back all the dreadful emotions that festered inside me and failing miserably.</p><p>Of course, that wasn't to say that Tubbo wasn't just like me in some regards. Whether or not ignoring everything that had happened to us in the past month was the best way to go about things was lost to us, but we did it anyway. But still, it was hard not to at least remember, seeing as how we were graced with nightmares about them frequently. I guess Tubbo needed something to hold onto, some sort of reassurance instead of just distractions from the pit of dread that sometimes felt as though it would choke us.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah I do," I mumbled after a moment, sliding the somewhat dry blanket off my shoulders so I could reach the small brown book that was tucked into Tubbo's lap, and they let me take it without any hesitation. I flipped the pages until I found the latest entry, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw it.</p><p>"You know I hate writing," Tubbo grumbled, leaning in closer so they could see me correct some of the bigger mistakes in the entry. "Reading's alright; It's just the bloody writing." I nodded along still smirking, and he pouted, before it eventually melted back into a grin as well. For the past three days we'd been caught up on just surviving, that it somehow felt a little strange to just have a laugh come so easy. This moment felt familiar, although I couldn't quite place from where. It brought that awful feeling back up my throat, my thoughts lingering back to before, from back to when we were safe.</p><p>"We don't have to make an entry today, if you don't want to," Tubbo supplied in that whispering tone, their somber one finally having been dropped. "We can just talk, you know, like before." My pen slowed to a stop in my hand, still staring at the somehow dry, white pages of the journal. Dammit, how the fuck does he always see right through me?</p><p>"Like what?" I asked a little monotonously, not quite sure what before they were referring to. All our conversations felt like they fit easily into some pattern lately, so I wasn't really too concerned about whatever it was, just wanting to talk. I suppose Tubbo felt the same.</p><p>"Like silly stuff," Tubbo whispered, leaning his head back against the wall to look at the night sky. "Like, if you could have a superpower, what would it be?" He smiled slightly, with a soft chuckle, and I felt as though I already knew what their power would be. "I think I'd like to control bees, or I guess just insects in general." Tubbo admitted as expected, and I could help but snort. They gave me a light punch to my side.</p><p>"Called it," I grinned, trying to yank their side of the blanket off so I could have it all to myself, but Tubbo huffed defiantly, yanking it back.</p><p>"Whatever man," Tubbo said, dropping the whispering, yet still talking somewhat quietly. "Just answer the question." I gave it just one moment of thought.</p><p>"A super powerful one, obviously," I chuckled, causing Tubbo to tilt his head slightly. "I'd be stronger than anyone, nobody could hold shit to me." It was Tubbo's turn to hold in his laughter, eventually failing with a small grin.</p><p>"That's not how it works," Tubbo shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully. "You can't just say-"</p><p>"Do you two ever shut the hell up?" Came Skeppy's agitated, sleepy voice. Both of us froze like schoolboys as we watched Skeppy sit up from his bed, glaring at us with those tired eyes of his. "I swear, I'm starting to hear you guys in my sleep." I covered my smile with my hand as I watched him run his hand through his hair, drunkenly making his way up to a standing position through his sleepiness.</p><p>"Where you going?" I asked, and as expected, I got the same response as last time. "Air," He muttered groggily, flipping me his middle finger as he stumbled out through the gap in the wall, a crashing sound heard soon after, presumably from a fall. Tubbo snorted, glancing disapprovingly at the place Skeppy made his exit.</p><p>"Still don't like it here," Tubbo grumbled scornfully, leaning their head on their propped up hand almost boredly. Tubbo scrunched his nose slightly, still recalling the pit fight from our first day here. We'd seen most of what this place had to offer, and quite frankly, Tubbo was less than impressed, but we were sustaining ourselves better here than before, so I saw that as a win. Plus, we never had to worry about any dog attacks, which was just fine in my opinion.</p><p>"You'll get over it," I grumbled back, burying myself into the miserable covers. "It's not all bad. We can survive here really well, better than we could alone. Plus, we don't have to worry about ever losing each other in a flood." Tubbo didn't acknowledge my words, merely continuing to stare back up at the twinkling stars above, the same ones that looked over us from before all this calamity befell us.</p><p>"Right, Tubbo?" I asked again, giving them a slight nudge. Tubbo nodded, curling up into a ball and leaning against me stiffly, clearly wishing to fall back asleep.</p><p>"Together," Tubbo grumbled tiredly. We stayed silent after that.</p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <em>Tommy is tired of writing the j̶e̶r̶n̶a̶l̶s journals I can tell. ̶H̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶t̶i̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶a̶ ̶l̶o̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶s̶ ̶l̶a̶t</em>
</p><p><em>̶W̶ɘ̶  We found a town in France. It  ̶u̶s̶e̶b̶  used to be Lille, but nowit's just a slump. There </em> <em>ɒ</em> <em>re d̶o̶g̶f̶i̶p̶h̶t̶s̶  dogfights here, sometimesto the de</em> <em>ɒ</em> <em>th. They use c̶h̶i̶l̶b̶r̶e̶n̶  chil in them. Skeppy s</em> <em>ɒ</em> <em>id it's more interesting that way. Skeqqy was our friend, by the way. Hɘ's a  lot different  now.</em></p><p><em>I don't like it  here. They form packs to qrotect each other, and wɘ'renot in one. Tommy doesn't think that's abig problem, but I do. Skeppy isn't in  one ether, it's why he wanted us to </em> <em>ɒ</em> <em>lly with him. Sure, we bon't have   to worry about sheltɘr ornatural dangers here, but geting food  is harber, and I'm s̶c̶  worriɘd we're going to  get on</em> <em>ɒ</em> <em> pack's bad side, if we  aren't alreaby. We'd be slaughtɘred  in an instant.</em></p><p><em>I w</em> <em>ɒ</em> <em>nt to leave. Tommy doɘsn't.</em></p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <b>Skeppy POV</b>
</p><p>"Fuck!" I shouted, not particularly caring about being loud in the middle of the street. I got a few distasteful glances, but I didn't even bother baring my teeth at them. I wanted to pull out my hair, stomp around and maybe even punch someone square in the jaw, but I restrained myself, somehow managing to get to the border of town where there was hardly a soul. Or if there was, there were so few I couldn't have cared either way.</p><p>My breath was heavy as I gazed out at the barren landscape in front of me, the wind ruffling my hair and chilling my exposed skin with its nipping chill, the low light of the waning moon just enough to reflect off the water in front of me. I took a shaky step forward so that the town was behind me, officially in the emptiness of the night. A gulp forced its way down my throat as I looked up at the sky, littered in a plethora of lustrous stars that glittered between the gaps in the faraway gray clouds. Bad really liked the stars.</p><p>I sunk to my knees, not caring about the way the water seeped through my clothes and into my bones. What did it matter, when I was already so royally fucked over? The noises of all those still in the city were far behind me, the only sound accompanying me being the wind and wayward sounds of the night. This usually calmed me, the blissful serenity of this place, but lately it hadn't been doing a very good job.</p><p>"Bad," I croaked, curling over into a pathetic heap, further soaking my already ruined clothes. I rubbed the small charm in my palm, the familiarity of it calming the quivering of my body slightly. "Fuck..." I muttered to myself, bringing the busted up key-chain into the moonlight for me to take in once again. I couldn't quite tell if I was angry or sad as the soft, dying light reflected off its shiny surface, glistening a pale yellow, the rest silhouetted against the sparkling water below.</p><p>"I'm sorry," I whispered to the metallic duck in my hand, the delicate chain clinking faintly as I curled it back up in my hands. I remembered the warmth of Bad's hug even after all this time, the memory seemingly the only thing keeping me from freezing up in the wretched piece of rubble I now called my home. My arms curled around my torso, squeezing myself while I bit my bottom lip, now staring at the sparkling surface of the murky water I was kneeled it. I could see a piece of my reflection in it.</p><p>"Fuck," I said again, this time more broken, even I had to admit it. The arms wrapped around myself did nothing the soothe the rapid pumping in my chest, a constant ticking that coursed through my veins. The image of Tommy flashed to my mind. The blond boy with a stupid laugh and obnoxious personality managed to drive away the misery that had begun to build up inside me, replacing it instead with anger once more, the habitual feeling once more serving to satisfy my ever growing need to forget.</p><p>"FUCK!" I roared into the sky, sending a fist pummeling into the water, disturbing its bottom so that I was surrounding in its disgusting murk. I sneered at my distorted reflection, the crumbling man finally out of my sight. "FUCK THEM ALL!" I welcomed the familiar feeling of fury, letting my resentment flow freely, now so relieving from the constant bombardment of emotions that threatened to make me burst.</p><p>"He doesn't deserve to be alive," I spat at the reflection in the water, still so gruesomely distorted that all my features were practically non-existent. "Neither of them, neither. They should both be <em>dead</em>." My reflection did not nod, only faded into the murk as I disturbed the swamp's bottom further, my own agitation bursting as I started yanking my hair, a habit I recently formed that while painful, somehow served to soothe my resentful state.</p><p>"HE SHOULD BE ALIVE!" I screamed at no one in particular, the night not even bothering to echo my own words back at me as I started clawing at the ground pathetically. "NOT THEM, NOT TOMMY. <em>DARRYL</em>." My body was shaking again, but I didn't bother calming it. Only more unpleasant feelings would overtake me should I let my tantrum stop, so I didn't.</p><p>I never liked Tommy. He was rude, egotistical, and an overall brat, nothing at all like Bad. He should be the one that was dead, the little bitch boy. Not Bad, Bad was too nice. Someone made a mistake, having Bad die in place of Tommy. Tommy had no right to have his friend alive. Another scream tore through the silent night, nothing bothering to answer my deplorable cries in the silence. <em>I wanted him dead so bad.</em></p><p>Huffs passed through my lips from my throat, which was still sore from my last screaming session, the pain somehow still not having faded. The duck key-chain remained clutched in my hand, Bad's last gift to me before... Before what happened exactly?</p><p>No, I didn't care. Bad was dead and Tommy was not, I remember that. My teeth grit against one another as I continued seething, once again recalling how bright Bad's smile was as he pressed the spontaneous gift into my palm. I wanted to see that smile again, even for just a little bit. I wanted my friend back.</p><p>My finger traced one of my many new scars that littered my arms, eyes bleary from exhaustion as I stared at it. Would I be less tired if Bad were here with me? I didn't think I would like the honest answer. After nearly two months of merely scrapping by like a stray dog, one grows weary of it, and maybe it would be a little selfish of me to relish in the fact that Bad never had to go through any of this, not like I did. There was no way of climbing out from the bottom in this hell, and there was no surviving on my own. I was stuck, stuck being the kicking can for any bored pack, on the brink of starvation with little I could do besides sulk.</p><p>The duck finally stopped glistening as a cloud passed over the brightness cast by the moon's rays, the stars not doing hardly enough to keep it lit. I chuckled morbidly, clenching my fist around the charm. "Shit's going to change, Bad," I whispered, whether I was shaking from the cold or from my own intangible emotions none of my concern. "Two birds with one stone."</p><p>The duck said nothing.</p><p>~~~</p><p>"I know you're still awake, Tommy," I said in my usual tone, having calmed down after my latest screaming session. In the faint light I could see Tommy's head shift ever-so-slightly to face me, Tubbo's sleeping form besides him, leaning against the wall but close enough so that they wouldn't freeze to death during the night. My mouth unwittingly twitched.</p><p>"You're just as hungry as me, right?" I pressed, moving as silently as I could throughout the cramped space to stand intimidatingly over the arrogant boy. He blinked, the moonlight showing the dull shine of his eyes which held nothing but apprehension. He nodded slightly so as to not wake the boy besides him, Tubbo not even squirming in his sleep. I grinned, not even wondering if he could see it in the faded light.</p><p>"How would you like to fight in the Pit?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Killing BBH hurt me more than Gogy ;-; Anyways, expect updates every week or week and a half. [BTW, the superhero talk was a reference to City of Secrets and Masks by aceofsun] Hope you enjoyed (^^)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Fight (Part One)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry for the long wait! Tubbo also announced that he's using he/him pronouns so I'll be using those for future chapters. I also feel like I should apologize in advance for this chapter. If my writing gets worse or you feel it could be improved, please tell me! ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tommy POV</b>
</p><p>My grip tightened on my vlog knife, the short blade being my only weapon as I fought my rising nerves. My breath passed heavily through my thrumming chest as I found it often did, but now the pressure was so strong I felt as though I might die of fright right where I stood. </p><p>The crowd around me was cheering the last dogfight's victor, the mixture of outraged roars and delighted screams more or less the same to my ears. The heat of the midday sun bore down upon my back, but I was fairly certain it was the chill that was running up my spine that was causing me to sweat. My palms clammed around the handle, my thumb rubbing its hard rubber up and down, more shouting ensuing as the battered body of the loser was dragged out of the soggy pit, coughing up blood with strangled chokes.</p><p>There was a push on my shoulder from Skeppy, and my breath hitched as I walked stiffly forward, eyes wide as the crowd around me shouted in my face, yelling words in French that I could only partially understand. The heat around me was suddenly more intense, my foot taking the step down into the five-inch deep pit, the red water lapping around my ankles coldly, as though it was already testing me out to be its next victim. The cheers around me were so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts whisper to me, a sudden realization hitting me causing my breath to hitch as my opponent emerged from the other side of the crowd: <em>I'm really doing this</em>. </p><p>He looked to be a little younger than I was, his blade quite a bit longer, but not so much so that my own was useless. He swept his black hair out of his eyes, taking a stance while I took mine, the defensive one Dream had shown me. Panting escaped my lips even though the game master hadn't yet started the match, my frenzied eye taking in his every detail while he took in mine. I just had to remember why I was here, just had to win and everything would be fine. I only needed to do this once, after all.</p><p>The loud shout from the game master rang our over that of the audience, and not even a moment later, the boy advanced towards my right, already angling his arm to get a good hit on me. My eyes widened as I dodged as best I could, sucking in my breath as his serrated blade sliced mercilessly through my left arm, tearing through the skin and muscle in one fell swoop before backing off just as quick before I could take my own swing at him. I fought back a gasp, biting my lip as I ignored the raging, familiar pain in my forearm, instead letting the blood drip down steadily in morbid globs of red back into the already crimson water. Fuck, why couldn't my knees just stop shaking so much?</p><p>The boy advanced again, this time on my other side, most likely expecting the same result, seeing as how this was my first pit fight. I raised my own blade in preparation, stepping swiftly to the left as he arched his arm downward, reaching for his wrists with trembling hands, just like I remembered how to. His eyes widened, and he lifted his leg up for a solid kick, but only managed to get my knees before I rushed forward to grab only one of his wrists. He screamed at me, wrangling himself so that his other hand swung towards my face, the quick flash of silver my only warning that another strike was going to befall me, and I was unable to release him and get away fast enough.</p><p>Everything was happening much too quickly for me. My grip slipped from his wrist, and before I knew it another deep gash tore through my other arm, and if the spurt of red was any indication, this time it was definitely deeper. I gasped and let out a pitiful shriek, clutching the gaping wound with my other arm, backing away desperately from my opponent with wide eyes. Too late, I realized I shouldn't have gotten myself into this mess, my panic too great to do anything useful as the boy approached yet again. I stepped back, my foot meeting with the edge of the pit, my heartbeat now in my ears as the boy's blade swung in a wide arc in front of me.</p><p>I grit my teeth through the ever-growing pain in my arms, letting pure instinct take over and ignored how my blood streaked in the air as I swung my own vlog knife straight for the boy's neck. I couldn't die here, not after all I'd been through, not in this hell pit for entertainment. Adrenaline coursed rampantly through me, mixing with my fear so that I could feel my heart race even in my fingertips, shaking as the boy realized where my blade would land. He withdrew his own so as to dodge, finally allowing me the upper-hand, and I did not intend to lose it easily.</p><p>I wasn't afraid to kill him. I didn't quite care about it either. I managed to slice his shoulder, a hiss escaping him as he stumbled back, a bit of his flesh still sticking to my red-coated blade as I pressed forward, even with the intense feeling of dread boiling in my stomach. We played the same game as before, except now I was the one advancing with a swinging blade, forcing him to either dodge or counter-strike. Blood continued dribbling down my arms as I huffed, all my senses frayed and focused on the boy in front of me.</p><p>I finally managed to slice his side by plowing through my own suffering, a howl ringing over the shouts of the crowd as he clutched his bleeding torso, gritting his teeth as his hands became stained red, the warm liquid dousing his clothes and skin. I wouldn't say I was winning just yet, my whole strategy's purpose only managing to keep the boy from attacking me. The crowd was growing tired of this, all of their eyes on me, only adding to the heat that was slowly starting to consume me.</p><p>My arm started trembling from forcing the torn muscles through the pain, but I kept going, desperate to finally fill my empty stomach after so long. The boy in front of me seemed just as determined, taking a wild swing at me, that while an excellent opportunity to strike, I found I was much too disorientated to take advantage of it. I screamed into the air, too slow and caught up with our previous pattern to realize his blade was getting closer to my chest than I would have preferred.</p><p>My already tattered shirt was sliced, more blood gushing out in the familiar crimson display and I held back the prickling sensation in my eyes, gritting my teeth once more to try and block out the agonizing tear in my flesh. Everything just hurt so much, I wasn't sure I could even bring myself to dodge his next blow. All the people around and all the pressure in my chest made me feel as though I were swaying, eyes widening as the boy made to tackle me to the ground, wanting to end the match just as badly as I did.</p><p>I turned ever slightly so I could get a good look at him, and if he noticed the action, he thought nothing of it, only continuing his assault. Another shaky, heavy breath passed my lips, knowing that whether or not I remembered this move correctly could be the deciding factor on if I would see Tubbo again or not. He pushed forward to knock me to the ground, my trembling, aching red arm reaching upwards to brace for it. I winced as our bodies made contact, his blade slicing my stomach in a clean line and I had to suppress another howl. </p><p>My breath was heavier than it had been moments prior, not taking any time to think as my tunnel vision focused on the black-haired boy in front of me. Instead of fighting to push him off me, I reached up for his head, everything much too hot and loud for me to fully comprehend everything around me. It felt as though my heart itself was shaking inside my aching ribs.</p><p>He went to bring me down into the murky, gory waters, but with all the strength my quivering hands could manage, I gripped the sides of his head and twisted, a satisfying crack soon resonating loud enough for me to hear over the roars surrounding me.He suddenly stopped trying to wrangle me to the ground. His body became too heavy for me, and his limp form slipped easily from my hands, causing me to wince as his body splashed into the water below, small waves to lapping at my feet.</p><p>My heartbeat was even louder now, my fingers curled into loose fists around my vlog knife, for some reason the relief having yet to wash over me as I stared at the fresh corpse laying silently below. I didn't care that he was dead, only about soothing the rumbling in my stomach that was constantly shredding me apart from the inside. I huffed and panted, my wounds somehow not as painful as the pressure in my chest.</p><p>It was so hard to breathe. I won, but it was so hard to breathe. Clutching a hand to the still guzzling wound on my stomach, I continued staring at the lifeless eyes below me, all of the other sounds around me lost to my deafened ears. My body was swaying where I stood, my throat going dry as I felt warm liquid trickle over my fingers. Perhaps my body still wasn't caught up with the fact that I survived just yet, even though the roaring of the crowd around me should have bee more than enough proof.</p><p>A flash of pain brought another wince onto my face, straining my sliced and bleeding body to ignore the vertigo threatening to dunk me into the nauseating water below. Even if my heart rate was slowing down, I couldn't tell from the sheer speed it was pumping. A gulp tried to satisfy my burning throat to no avail as I watched the corpse get dragged back into the crowd like a rag doll, a fate that very well could have befallen me. With a shaky hand, I gripped the other and squeezed.</p><p>The emotions running through me were impossible to name, although I knew relief was one of them. Today was not the day Tubbo and I would starve. I choked back a sob, feeling something grab my arm. Flinching, I turned around with with, panicked eyes and a hitch in my throat. Skeppy was smiling hungrily at me, already having gathered the winnings from the dogfight, now tugging on me to clear the pit for the next battle. I obeyed thoughtlessly, allowing him to drag me back to our shelter blindly.</p><p>He spoke to me on the way back, although even though I had won, I could still sense some disappointment in his voice, almost as if he had expected something else from the fight. I couldn't be bothered to think too much about it, my shock being quickly replaced by exhaustion, my thoughts lingering over to the bag Skeppy had slung over his shoulder containing my earning. It was more than fair for me to drool a little at that thought of it, wasn't it? My grumbling stomach moaned once again, only caring about filling itself after so long.</p><p>The shelter was in sight, and without realizing it, my aching feet quickened their pace. There were tears in my eyes from my relief that I quickly wiped away, heart pacing as I rushed desperately to see Tubbo. I hadn't bid him goodbye this morning, only crept out silently with Skeppy, not knowing if I would ever see him again. Without knocking, I slid in through the hole in the wall that served as a door, eyeing Tubbo immediately upon entering.</p><p>"Tommy! I- What happened to you?" Tubbo yelped, taking a break from his nervous pacing to stare at me wide-eyed and startled upon seeing my bleeding figure. "Tommy I've been worried sick, where the hell have you been!" The question came out more of a wrathful demand, causing me to flinch in surprise, still clutching my gurgling abdomen. I smiled widely though, the vertigo from before slowly releasing its grip on me. Upon seeing the red on my shirt his breath hitched, hesitantly reached for the wound.</p><p>"It's fine Tubbo, really," I said instead, his eyes dashing towards Skeppy's emerging form, which currently had a chunk of meat stuffed into it. "It's not that deep, and I got food for us! Tubbo, we can finally-" Tubbo choked on his words, and I faltered on my own when I watched him ball his hands into fists, realization of what I'd done starting to register within him.</p><p>"You motherfucker," He seethed, snapping his full attention back on me, the extent of his anger not being dampened in the slightest even though I was still oozing blood. "You stupid, stupid motherfucker, you could have <em>died</em>! I though we talked about this Tommy, we promised each other, you fucking <em>promised </em>me you wouldn't do this kind of shit."</p><p>"Tubbo, we're starving," I tried to reason, neither having expected or enjoying his reaction, my smile falling. "I know you're just as hungry as me, I don't care what you think, I'm not letting us starve to goddamn death. It was nece-"</p><p>"<em>There! </em>There it fucking is!" Tubbo snarled, taking a nearby piece of fallen rock and smashing it on the ground, dangerously close to my foot while he flayed his arms about angrily. "It's <em>always </em>you, you're <em>always </em>the one that decides, you never cared about what I think! Goddamn it Tommy, we're supposed to be in this together!" My eye twitched, in disbelief at how fucking ungrateful he was being right now.</p><p>"And we are!" I growled back, imposing on him with my height, Skeppy watching us amused while he snacked ravenously on my winnings. "But shit changed Tubbo, and I'm not going to let us die because you're being too much of a pussy to see what we have to do to survive! Your reasoning's just going to get us fucking killed, don't you see! We probably wouldn't even be in this situation if we just jumped that woman."</p><p>"Tommy, you could have<em> DIED</em>," Tubbo snapped back with much more fury and passion than me, the racing of my heart coming right back as though it had never left. "What part of that don't you get? And I'm not being a pussy, I just want to keep us fucking safe! And tell me right now: Did you kill your opponent Tommy? <em>Tell me.</em>" There was a fire in his eyes, something I'd never seen before. I hid my gulp, snarling at him with curled lips.</p><p>"And what if I did!" I shouted with just as much bitterness, ignoring how dry my throat was feeling at the moment, focusing only on the shorter boy in front of me, who was currently glaring at me disgustingly. "Stop acting like I'm the bad guy here! It's the end of the world Tubbo! It doesn't matter if he's dead or not, only that we're alive, and I'm going to keep us that way. What I did was the-"</p><p>"STOP IT," Tubbo roared, ruffling his hair furiously with his hands in attempt to calm himself, looking just about ready to throw me against a wall. "JUST STOP IT, I'm getting sick of it! It's <em>us </em>Tommy, not you! We're a team and that means you have to listen to me too, because neither of us want to die! We promised each other not to fight in the pit, because I didn't want to see you getting hurt. But you didn't care, just like al-"</p><p>"Don't go saying this shit like everything's my fault!" I yelled, still having yet to release my torso, using my other hand to point angrily at his face. "It's not like I've never listened to you, you've just always followed me, so why are you bitching so hard about this now! I'm alive, and I have food! That should be all that matters right now Tubbo!"</p><p>"It matters that you never care about what I think!" Tubbo fumed, trying to calm down from his rageful fit, huffing air through his lips while he tugged his hair. "I just want to keep us both alive!" He ended up taking a deep breath, meeting my good eye with a calmer body, yet the same passion in his eyes continued flaring as he prepared to speak, face remaining just as frustrated. I tried to tame the sudden flare of hostility as well, meeting his gaze with just as much indignation.</p><p>"Don't lie to me this time Tommy," Tubbo huffed, fists still curled into loose fists, looking almost pleading as he stared up at me. "Are you going back into that pit?" My breath hitched as I recalled the heat that bore down on me in the pit, Tubbo's wretched face serving only to further fuel the drive I felt in the moment I snapped my opponent's neck. My hand played with the wound on my shoulder, the blood having slowed its gurgling, taking a good moment to think about how close to death I had been from the encounter. Nonetheless, I released a sigh, tightening my grasp on my stained shirt.</p><p>"If I have to," I admitted curtly, Tubbo's breathing stopping momentarily as his eyes which had softened slightly returning with the vigor from before. I remained silent as I watched him fumble for words, heart thumping against the bones in my ribs, the statement filling me with just about as much unease as it was fear. But I knew it was true. I would do anything, <em>anything </em>if it meant we stayed alive.</p><p>"I guess you've made up your mind," Tubbo said stiffly, face darkening as he walked past me, brushing up against my blind side so I could feel his presence but not see him. I didn't turn to look at him as he slid his way out of the entrance, feeling his eyes bore into my back before hearing him slip out into the French afternoon.</p><p>When he was gone, a breath I hadn't known I had been holding freed itself alongside some water in my eyes, the same as when I won my dogfight. I was feeling myself go a bit faint, using the wall as support, although it couldn't provide nearly enough. Once again, I gripped one hand with the other, giving it a tight squeeze. The action did not soothe me.</p><p>"That was fun," Skeppy said casually, speaking up for the first time in a long while. I whipped my head over to see him already having eaten his third of the winnings, although now that Tubbo's was gone he seemed just about ready to eat the portion he left behind when he stormed out as well. My piercing glare and snarl made him back off while I continued leaning pathetically against the wall, but he continued eyeing it hungrily.</p><p>"Fuck off," I groaned, slumping back down onto the soggy ground, wincing as I did so. Goddamn, for some reason the wound on my abdomen was starting to hurt like a son of a bitch, and there was frankly little I could do about it besides lay slouched against the wall miserably. Skeppy chuckled humorlessly, rubbing something yellow within his hoodie pocket softly with a thin smile on his face.</p><p>"He's being a little bitch," Skeppy mused aloud, although whether he was trying to console me or not was lost to me. "He'll get over it soon enough, he's hungry after all. People get fucking crazy when they're hungry enough." I nodded stiffly at his words, wondering if that same hunger was what caused me to overreact. It wasn't as though Tubbo's outburst came from nowhere after all.</p><p>I put my head in my palm as I curled over, blowing air lamentably from my tired lungs, only now taking the time to catch up on the events that just occurred. It had felt so surreal, the dogfight, and now that it was all but a memory I couldn't quite convince myself it was real. That I killed someone, again. Never before had I thought I'd become a murderer, but here we are. My gaze lingered over to the briefcase containing my journal, or 'survival guide' as Tubbo liked to call it sometimes. My eyes saddened.</p><p>Tubbo was right, I suppose. Lately I had been making our decisions for the both of us, but it was just to keep the both of us alive. My heart clenched, and not because of the aching and soreness of the rest of my body. Without Tubbo, I didn't know what I'd do, because throughout this entire journey he'd been my only anchor, my only friend that I could trust and depend on. Just the thought of seeing those same lifeless eyes from the body I killed on Tubbo sent waves of despair crashing over me. I couldn't just let him die.</p><p>I gazed sadly out the hole that served as our door, knowing Tubbo needed more time to cool down before having a proper conversation with him again. Perhaps I needed more time as well. I still didn't regret my decision, in fact, I was more than confident Tubbo was in the wrong here. As I dragged myself over to where my winnings were, my stomach thanked me, for the first time in what felt like weeks finally having a proper meal so that I wasn't on the brink of starvation.</p><p>Skeppy, like always, wasn't one for chatting, but I did find him grinning and muttering unintelligibly to himself on occasion as the evening faded to dusk. I had done my best to patch up the plethora of wounds that now littered my body from the fight I had barely escaped with my life from, but I wasn't quite sure what I was doing through half of it, Skeppy offering no help whatsoever. In fact, was it my imagination, or did he seem rather pleased? I huffed, leaning against the wall in the area I'd come to claim as Tubbo and I's sleeping place. My stomach still hurt like a bitch.</p><p>I waited awake that night, merely watching the door for Tubbo to return. He eventually did, although he only briefly met my eyes before looking away disdainfully towards out meager belongings. Skeppy was already fast asleep, and through much whining from the older man, I had convinced him not to eat the portion I had left for Tubbo from my winnings. I even added a little extra from mine, seeing as how he must've been extra hungry from wandering town all day. Perhaps he could see it as a type of apology for being such an asshole.</p><p>But he hadn't, unfortunately, merely staring at it hesitantly yet hungrily before stuffing three strips of dog meat into his famished mouth, the hunger finally having gotten him to cave in to the winnings. He devoured them quickly, hardly swallowing as he consumed the rest of the portion, huffing slightly animalistically once he had finished, stomach growling loudly in the silence. I wasn't quite sure if it was asking for more seeing as how even the large portion was quite small, or if it was complaining from the sudden intake of so much food. I saw his wide eyes in the dull moonlight briefly once he finished; Skeppy was right, hunger does make a person rather perturbing.</p><p>Tubbo didn't return to my right side like he usually did, instead slipping on an extra hoodie and purposefully snuggling himself into a corner the farthest away from Skeppy and I. He seemed just about ready to settle in for the night, stomach as close to full as it would get in a long while. We remained quiet in that small, chilly space for a long while.</p><p>I wanted to call out to him, to pull him into a hug so tight I couldn't lose him to fight off that anguishing feeling back from the cliff. My right side felt empty without his company, even though he was here with me in the same room, safe and sound. No matter how desperately I wanted to reach out to him, words simply wouldn't come to me. I could say I was sorry, but we'd both know I wouldn't mean it. Not entirely, anyway. There wasn't anything I wasn't willing to do to keep us alive.</p><p>"Hey Tommy?" The small, faint voice surprised me, whisking me out of my own depressing thoughts temporarily, a spark of hope flickering inside my heavy chest. Our gazes met in the low light, all that was visible from his silhouette being the dull glint cast by the waning moonlight. The coldness from earlier seemed to have thawed slightly, although he still remained hesitant, eyes assessing me silently, judging me. He took a short breath, knowing I was listening without having needed to wait for a response.</p><p>"Would you ever go back into the pit?" His voice was crisp and curt, maintaining a tone to it that made it impossible to tell what emotions were flitting behind that voice of his. "Even if I asked you not to?" His eyes revealed nothing, only continuing to stare at me expectantly and judgingly. I squeezed one hand with the other, guiltily turning my eyes back to the floor.</p><p>"I refuse to let us die." My cracked voice carried easily throughout the small space. Tubbo's eyes bore into me, but said nothing more, instead turning away to sleep in cold and silence. I grit my teeth, ignoring how badly the small act caused my gut to wrench.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Fight (Part Two)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a long chapter, almost 8k words!! This is also the end of Part Two, so I hope you enjoy (^^)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Tommy POV</strong>
</p>
<p>The heat was familiar to me.</p>
<p>There was a tightness in my throat and heaviness in my chest that made inhaling hard, yet I continued huffing anyway, fingers tight around the handle of my vlog knife. Sweat was running from my face down to my neck, the stuffy and crammed crowd only adding to the midday sun's unforgiving and stifling heat. Somehow even my breath felt hot as my clothes stuck to my skin. A hitched inhale, a choked exhale. That was all I had to do.</p>
<p>The pressure and stiffness in my body felt just as tense as the last time I entered the pit, and although my hunger was certainly tamer, my stomach continued growling ravenously inside me, fueling the desperation that had quickly made a home with me. There were bodies all around me, surrounding me, trapping me. I tried not to pay the sickly way they felt against my skin any mind, instead focusing once again on the daunting task before me.</p>
<p>All I had to do was win, nothing more. It didn't matter if I was nothing more than entertainment, because I had done this once before, and I'd do it again. My life was worth the risk if it meant Tubbo and I could remain another day away from starvation. But my hands didn't quite get the memo, still continuing their shaking around their grip on my short blade while my wide eyes flitted anxiously around the dogfight already in progress in the pit. It even felt as though my entire body was quivering from the anticipation.</p>
<p>The fight before me was coming to the close; I could sense it, and so could all the other sweltering bodies around me, somehow managing to suffocate me even more despite how tall I was. My working eye focused on the final exchanged of the battle, the victor still unclear: The older girl swept her blade, striking the smaller one. Her scream from the sudden onslaught of red the was purged from her chest was just about the only thing that resonated in my mind, once again too clouded to pay anything else much mind. I flinched when she began weeping, begging for mercy. Her opponent gave her none, and soon, she was slumped in the red water like so many defeated before her.</p>
<p>And just like that the round was over. Her barely breathing body was dragged out unceremoniously out of the water and ignoring her moans and weeps, her wounds having turned the the murk an even darker shade of crimson. Everyone around me was yelling, either in celebration or in bitter disappointment. I watched impassively as she was dragged against the rough surface of the broken remains of the city, clenching my fist tighter still around my knife while I bit the inside of my lip. No matter what, I would not let that be me. There was just too much at stake here.</p>
<p>Like before, the heat made its way into my lungs, sending my heart racing and pounding so hard against my chest that I could feel it in my ears and fingertips. This time though, the stinging and burning sensation from my previous fight was present. A sharp inhale passed through my lips when a heavy hand pushed me once again forward through the stifling crowd, their eager eyes now upon me. Eager to see me get slaughtered horrifically, or eager to see me slay gruesomely were none of their concern. They just wanted to see red.</p>
<p>The water lapped once more against my feet as I was shoved back down into the pit. My chest felt so heavy, so hard to breath. It should have been easy, so why did my body feel ready to faint? My opponent emerged from the other side, this time another boy, seemingly younger than myself, yet almost my height.</p>
<p>I readied my blade, standing threateningly in my position while I watched him do much the same. My sweat was starting to trickle down my back, heart thrumming faster than I could feel, eye continuing to flit around the scene before me. None of that mattered, I had to focus on what was important, because all that mattered was winning.</p>
<p>The game master announced the game with a shout that sent a shudder straight up my spine, my opponent not taking even a moment of hesitation before approaching. I grit my teeth, drawing my own blade with a shout as I watched him prepare to swing at me, slicing dangerously through the air in an attempt to ward him off. He obeyed, watching me from out of my range with a dark look on his face. I forced my nerves down with one last shiver. I had already done this once before; I could survive again.</p>
<p>He made an attempt to jab my left, although I swiftly dodged, my feet causing red water to splash onto our legs. He then went to make the same move more or less on my right side, and of course I tilted my head to see so that I could dodge similarly. The boy hesitated for a moment, as though he needed a moment to think, repeating the same exact jabs as before. My brows furrowed, and while I was perhaps rather confused and bored of the repetitive pattern, the crowd was more so, booing him and hungry for more excitement.</p>
<p>After one last swing to my right side so that I was forced to whip my head around to see, he suddenly changed course, all hesitation gone and replaced with what might have even been confidence. There was a growl from his throat, and ignoring how my stomach was slowly killing me from both hunger and my still-red wound, I growled back when he raised his blade again, this time moving to slice him before he could make another jab.</p>
<p>The dark-haired boy yelped when my blade sliced straight down his arm, my huffing growing exponentially more intense and animalistic as the round continued. The wound I inflicted hadn't been deep, only a small scrape that managed to pierce the skin and draw a fine trickle. He didn't bother worrying over it though, instead taking right back up with his attacks, unfazed having correctly expected me to take a breather given I had managed to land a hit on him. I tched at myself, angling myself to see him more clearly as he rapidly approached, easily sidestepping his amateur attack.</p>
<p>A grin found its way on my face as the boy continued fumbling to jab me, the moves even more inexperienced and desperate than my own. My nerves were in no way dulled, but the exhilarating and relieving rush of adrenaline was proving to be advantageous, giving me the edge I needed to overcome the shaking of my hands and the pain in my abdomen. One of his swings went awfully wide, and I hungrily took it as my opportunity to strike.</p>
<p>His eyes widened as I drove my blade home in his arm, the boy having blocked instead of letting it sink into his chest, knowing he'd be too slow to dodge. A pathetic scream rang from his ears, a scream that sounded so close to victory in my ears. I was rather surprised when he pushed me away, knife still tight in my grasp so that ripped, tattered muscles that were torn between the boy and my blade clung to the red metal.</p>
<p>Once again the boy didn't hesitate to start attacking, desperate to gain the upperhand. Dream's lessons flashed once again through my mind, and I grit my teeth, swiftly turning my head to see him arc his rusting knife. I was only a moment too late to fully dodge, but that was more than alright by me. I grunted, not bothering to inspect the fresh wound on my leg, his untrained swing missing my stomach entirely and in his desperation, arced down into my thigh instead.</p>
<p>I narrowed my eyes at the boy as I prepared for what would hopefully be my final stab. Whether my jab would be fatal or not was none of my concern. His chest was open, undefended, and with vigorous and heavy steps through the murk, I charged, aiming for a quick and deadly strike to his heart. Even if I missed, I was too close for him to fully dodge, and the blow would certainly cause him to surrender. He was within striking range, my heart pounding and hot, sticky breath from the sun overbearing as I made my move.</p>
<p>To my surprise, the boy smiled, sidestepping to the right much quicker than before, apparently able to move much faster than I'd anticipated. I snarled, turning my head wildly to get him back in my field of vision, moving my blade so as to blindly strike at least his arm anyway. My hand felt his body before my eyes did, and in a moment, everything changed.</p>
<p>The scream that left my mouth was horrifying enough to garner the loudest cheer from the crowd I'd heard, although it was rather hard to tell over my own choked cries. The boy wrenched his blade out from my stomach, my shriek piercing the air through the most agony I'd felt in my life. More quieter, although in no way less pained screams left my mouth as I collapsed onto the ground, holding my already injured stomach, the way he twisted his blade sending crimson grotesquely guzzling once more. My eyes widened as I watched, no longer breathing as water tried to find its way into my mouth.</p>
<p>"<em>NO!</em>" I cried, the plead sounding so pathetically carnal that the boy faltered when he made to deliver the final blow to assure his victory. I don't think I'd ever been more afraid than I was in that moment, curled up on my stomach, hands doused in my own plethora of blood as I tried to soothe my torturous stomach. My eyes were so wide and breath so scattered I couldn't even tell if I was either seeing or breathing anymore as I looked up, the boy's silhouette outlined by the sweltering son.</p>
<p>"Shouldn't have been so cocky blind boy," He said calmly in English as unemotionally as possible, both of us ignoring how is voice cracked as he choked on his words. The little air in my throat hitched, mouth going dry as a flash of silver glided down through the air. My eyes felt wet, and not from the sweat that was clamming my hands and trickling down my back.</p>
<p>The blade drove itself into my shoulder so close to my heart, my torn muscles joining me in my screaming as it burned, burned so so bad. The boy was glancing down at me piteously, although mere seconds once he was done looking over my writhing state he turned away, already walking away to receive his winnings. My head started feeling dizzy as I walked him pass, footsteps splashing specks of water onto my face to collect the winnings that should have been mine.</p>
<p>I screamed yet again, shocking the sudorous hands that had clamped around my wrist. The man grunted, ignoring my yelps and cries of agony as he dragged my body out of the pit by my feeble arm. I clenched my teeth, but it wasn't enough to get my to stop shrieking through them, my brows furrowed together as I tried to ignore how much my stomach hurt. Was hurt even enough to describe how my wound felt as though every cell was writhing and shriveling inside me?</p>
<p>Blood spluttered from my lips, dribbling down my chin, causing me to choke through another scream as my body was dragged humiliatingly over the rubble in the ground, scraping against my back. The oppressive hand that was dragging me over the sharp and excruciating surface of the broken ground tightened its grasp, its owner grumbling in his breath, as though my agony was a mere annoyance,. This didn't stop my screaming and groaning though, my heart not even letting my try to start breathing again through the red that was lodged in my throat.</p>
<p>The crowd parted around as the stranger dragged me away from the arena, my tears making it hard to see their impassive faces as they eagerly awaited the next pair of dogfighters. For a split second, I thought I saw Tubbo among them, my hopes flickering then just as quickly dying as I realized my eyes were deceiving me. The pain from my stomach spread through my chest, causing my to weep even further. I thought I was fine with being entertainment, but now as I was breaking down from more than my wounds, I couldn't help but be painfully reminded of the truth.</p>
<p>The man's grip on me loosened as he let me go, having dragged him over to where the few bodies of the losers of the day had been dropped off. Most of them were absolutely still. My body shook as I tried to force myself to sit up to no avail. It didn't stop shaking even after I gave up, my hands still trying to stop the bleeding of my gutted stomach with erratic and pathetic breaths. Gritting my teeth did nothing, and grabbing one hand with the other somehow managed to only ignite yet another pain in me.</p>
<p>A shadow loomed over me, and for a hopeful split second, I thought Tubbo had come. My head shakily turned from where I lay curled over to see the imposing figure, hands stuffed into his blue hoodie, dark eyes showing no emotion as he looked me over. Through my bleary vision I could see something in his hands, the yellow thing he always held. I wheezed through all the blood in my way, shakily removing a hands from my trembling form.</p>
<p>"Please," I choked out, my breathlessness not enough to get the weeping, miserable tone out from my cracked voice. "Help me..." The piteous words trailed off into more quiet sobbing, straining my muscles to force my shaking arm out towards Skeppy.</p>
<p>The man looked at my outreached, quivering hand, then at my wretched face. Skeppy gave no other sign of acknowledgement to my suffering, instead continuing to stare at me sullenly. Slowly and after many awkward moments of ignoring my pleads, his lips started to curl as his teeth clenched, brows furrowing as he continued glancing my barely alive figure over. With arms twitching slightly from an emotion he was trying to suppress, Skeppy slipped a thin paper from his pocket, fingers hesitating before eventually letting it drop onto the muddy earth in front of me, bloody from past contestants</p>
<p>"You deserved to die," Was all he said, tone impassive and numb. Horror dawned on my face as I choked on a gasp, lip quivering at the despairing words. The corners of his rose up in controlled resentment, though for what I wasn't sure. The hateful man didn't even spare me a second glance as he turned his heel, forcing me to watch his outline slip back into the crowd, far away from my pleading grasp.</p>
<p>My screams were no longer audible as I curled in on myself once more, now biting back my hatred for the man I had once idolized alongside the gaping hole in my stomach and the aching in my chest for my friend. My throat was doing an awful job of inhaling, but at least now I found myself breathing once more, the last of the blood from my lips dripping onto my cheek, the crimson liquid now beginning to dry plastered against my face.</p>
<p>With wide eyes I crunched the paper in my fist, my other hand clawed into the earth in an attempt to ease my pain, at least a little. My lungs continued huffing so shakily it hurt, the hot air adding to the overbearing heat that wrapped my body. I wasn't sure whether to be distraught or enraged at Skeppy, but I chose to be enraged. I spat some leftover blood and spit out of my mouth as I glared furiously at the familiarly-lined paper.</p>
<p>I should have never listened to him, that selfish son of a bitch. He brought me to the slaughter then deserted me, leaving me to writhe and die alone like a dog. I knew he never gave two shits about me yet I followed his lead anyway, and yet I still managed to be surprised when he discarded me, a broken child that no longer served him any purpose. Ruthless bitch knew how to survive, how to cut off those in need for his own gains. A bastard, but it seemed that that was the only way to stay alive. Flashes of George and Dream's smile cursed my mind briefly before I quickly shook them away.</p>
<p>"T-Together," I strangled out, desperately needing some form of reassurance, silently pleading Tubbo would come and find me in a last distraught hope. My fingers relaxed around the paper Skeppy had dropped on the ground besides me, loosely curled around the soft paper. The lines on the paper were so familiar, and only now as I began unfurling it from how terribly it was folded up, I recognized it. How Skeppy had gotten his hands on a page from my journal was beyond me, but nevertheless, I humored him, perhaps only because I needed some sense of security in the moment that I thought the journal could provide.</p>
<p>As soon as I opened the note, I choked on something in my throat, letting the flimsy paper fall back onto the soggy ground, the words now lost as they became stained and smeared with the mud below. A fresh wave of tears poured from my eyes, the words written on the paper stabbing me much more painfully than anything else I'd known. <br/><br/>The now illegible words in Tubbo's unmistakable scribble were scratched onto the paper, causing every cell in my body to writhe. Tears cursed my eyes as the words ingrained in my mind loomed over me dauntingly. I just couldn't be alone. I would rather die than be left to face the loneliness and despair unlike any I've ever known.</p>
<p>
  <em>Goodbye Tommy. I'm so sorry. I'll miss you.</em>
</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <strong>Tubbo POV</strong>
</p>
<p>My breathing sounded more like panting, my lungs burning to keep up with my pace, even though I was not nearly as fast as what I once was. My limping leg seemed as though it would never fully recover, and while I was bitter about the ordeal, there was unfortunately little I could do about it. All I could do was keep running, far, far away from the city that threatened to choke the life out of Tommy and I, and hope that he stayed alive.</p>
<p>While I wanted to run as far away as I could manage before I could changed my mind, my legs were starting to burn, and my diaphragm was beginning to ache. So I slowed my pace, resting upon my knees as I slowed to a stop and stood in the bleak, barren atmosphere, the only sound my hot and heavy exhales as well as my shaky inhales. My endurance over the past months lasted me much longer than before, although still not nearly as much for me to be comfortable with standing out in the open like this.</p>
<p>Glancing around, I saw nothing besides the watery wasteland, and if I squinted to the distance I could see the city, so distant that it was rather hazy and gray, melting into the horizon. My breath hitched, and I forced myself to clear my head lest I linger too much on Tommy. I held a hand to my heavy chest, guilt and nausea trying to claw its way up into my throat. I gulped, forcing it down, turning away from the city and back towards the ruined landscape in front of me.</p>
<p>As one left the city, the houses got sparser and sparser, now only an occasional ruin in my sight, none well-off enough to offer any shelter. Sturdy trees were starting to stabilize themselves in the disturbed earth once more, although the closest one was rather far away. I'd have to travel quite a bit to find a place to sleep at night, but for now, I stood still, breathing in the decent air with a deep breath as I gazed into the blinding sun.</p>
<p>My lids fluttered slightly as I basked in its heat, warming my bones and drying my clothes in a way that was impossible in the run-down ruins of a once great city, the remains of the tall buildings blocking out the sun. For some reason, despite the loneliness and hellscape surrounding me, I felt oddly liberating, albeit rather nerve-racking. I had gotten accustomed to relying on Tommy now, so the idea of resting when I got tired and following my own lead felt strange. Not as strange as how cold my hands felt despite how hot it was around me though.</p>
<p>There was no way to know what direction I was going, or if there was, I didn't know how to read the signs, so I continued walking forward. My footsteps splashed in the water below me, unsettling the bottom and echoing in my ears. If I was being honest, Tommy's pushiness hadn't been what drove me away, nor how different Tommy had become from the kind boy I'd known before.</p>
<p>I was scared. Everyday I would wake up, wondering if a stranger would be looting through our things in the pathetic space we shared with a man that wanted us dead. Packs were all around us, constantly trying to assert their dominance over areas in violent fights with other packs, loners more often than not getting caught in the crossfire or being used for entertainment by those with nothing better to do. As was common in the end of the world, with no law or consequences, myself apparently the only one with any morality left.</p>
<p>Skeppy was right when he said there was strength in numbers. Even the mere act of walking alone would sometimes end in death should one be unlucky enough, the mugging of what little loners had commonplace. My hands shook at the memory of being submerged into the shallow water while the little belongings on me were pried away from me, an experience I had never quite shared with Tommy for the sole reason that I shook too much merely thinking about it.</p>
<p>From there on out, I hadn't left the pathetic, claustrophobic safety of Skeppy's shelter without Tommy until the day of our fight. Everything about the constricting room made me breathless, although I wasn't sure why. I'd never had a problem with small spaces before, but now even the mere thought of returning caused my fist to unwillingly clench around the rough surface of my battered pole.</p>
<p>And then there was the issue of food, the constant hunger that drove me to snap at my only friend. The great population of the city had dwindled the food supply so much that while shelter and relative safety were abundant, one had to go great lengths to hunt. The hunger was unbearable, more than before, causing panic to consume me when I wondered what we'd eat the next day, if anything at all.</p>
<p>The narrow streets were too constricting, and while Tommy was either blind or pretended not to see, low-lives were constantly on the lookout for an easy meal. I chuckled, the sound some sort of company in the mostly still day. It was rather hypocritical of me to call others low-lives now that I too found myself straggling by in the filth and blood-thirsty population, also always with my eyes peeled for any free or relatively painless meal. Although at least I had never gone to the lengths of tearing into the unfortunate losers of the pit.</p>
<p>I couldn't help but grit my teeth at the thought of the dogfighting. That dumb bastard, how stupid did he have to be to realize that it wasn't worth it? Nothing was worth risking his life like that for, not even myself. It was reckless and dangerous, with a greater chance of dying than winning the pathetic prize, something we could get relatively easily had we moved on from the dying, gang-filled city.</p>
<p>But Tommy was stubborn, and no amount of convincing would be enough to get him to leave the place he deemed safer than the swamp. Although how much safer I wasn't sure. Tommy was had gotten tunnel vision, incapable of seeing the everyday horrors that took place in the overcrowded rubble. There were lots of drifters that frequently walked seemingly purposelessly around the city that looked at us strangely, most of their gazes trained on me and my noticeable limp. The 'weaker' of the pair.</p>
<p>I was sure had there not been a crowd something bad would have happened. Even with the plethora of passerby though, it wouldn't have surprised me should they do nothing if I was attacked, just like when I had been robbed and nearly drowned by a smaller pack. I'd already seen a multitude of corpses thrown about the street in the open, chunks taken out of them. I was not going to become the next victim.</p>
<p>The sun was still so high, even though it felt like I'd been walking for forever while I'd been mulling over the excess of thoughts in my mind, all desperate to be thought about. My fingers rubbed against my pole methodically, the weapon certainly not as conventional nor practical as the weapons that lined the multitude of vendors, but I found the familiarity easy to wield. It was only a matter of time before I had to use it anyway, might as well use this instead of learning to use another.</p>
<p>The terrain wasn't nearly as flat as it had been by the coast when we first crossed, so I assumed that meant I was getting farther away, traveling new ground. The many faults and breaks in the earth made it difficult though, and while climbing up a particularly tall hill wasn't that hard, it took more effort than walking on flat land. Seeing as how I was still going of off dinner yesterday, I really couldn't afford to spend the extra energy, especially if how much thinner I'd gotten was any indication.</p>
<p>There was a massive fault in front of me, that while only as tall as myself, was awfully wide, no end in sight. I was left with no choice to climb over it should I want to continue my trek, the angle only made walking with my limp more awkward as I tried to pull myself over it, the usually unobtrusive impediment having not bothered me that much until now.</p>
<p>My huffing intensified as I did so, having to push my body forward to crawl over onto the fault, hands digging into the surprisingly dry earth. My face was pressed against the grass as I tried to swing my legs over, succeeding with only minimal effort on the first try. A satisfied smile graced my lips, my attention turning to the wasteland in front of me. Almost instantaneously the smile fell from my quickly paling face.</p>
<p>One of the dogs I hadn't seen from below the fault got up from where it had been laying, snarling and growling to alert its fellow pack, who began stirring on command. All of their eyes were trained on me, although I didn't let their hungry gazes linger long. As soon as it registered within me that I was hopelessly outmatched, I scrammed, tossing myself back over the fault and pumping my legs as fast as humanely possible. I heard yipping from behind me, almost as if they were riling each other up to maul me.</p>
<p>Goddamn it, I was already tired from my sprint out of the city, and even without my limp there wasn't any possible way of outrunning them. My grasp on my pipe tightened, the dogs rapidly approaching, my ears hearing their light yet audible footsteps as they splashed in the soggy earth. They were just behind me, I could sense them, their jaws a mere moment away from clamping down on me.</p>
<p>My eyes flickered about nervously towards my surroundings, searching desperately for anything that could spare me from the blood-thirsty hounds. All of the buildings this far out were nothing but useless rubble or unscaleable remains of what were once standing homes. I silently cursed at my foolishness; Tommy had always made sure we had an escape route for situations such as this. In the corner of my eyes, I spotted the closest upright tree, although its branches were rather high, the lower ones having been washed away by the great plethora of floods that washed through the area. It was my only chance though.</p>
<p>I yelped, nearly crashing into the ground when I felt sharp teeth sink into my calf. My foot instinctively yanked itself out of the dog's grasp causing pieces of my skin to tear, although the action saved me from a deep wound. With a quick glance behind, I could see the small pack of five approaching behind the one I'd bucked off, staring at me crazily as they prepared to pounce.</p>
<p>Gritting my teeth and ignoring how my heart and leg burned, I took a stance with my pipe, bashing it mercilessly against the hound that bit my leg. It whimpered, although didn't crumble underneath my swing, a second one leaping up to claw at my face in the time it took me to do so. A mixture of a hiss and a scream escaped me, my hold on my pipe faltering. I forced myself to stay strong though, my very survival now at stake as I held onto my only weapon as tightly as I could.</p>
<p>It was trying to claw up to bite my face, the first dazed yet seemingly wanting to push through to attack alongside the second dog. I screeched, knocking away its powerful jaws by pushing the sharp end of my pipe through them. Blood got into my eyes as the bitch coughed, easily sliding off my pipe as it's pierced brain gave up on it, limp body hitting the soggy swamp with an audible thump. Temporarily blinded, I swung my pipe with no real aim at my feet in hopes to scare off any others while I wiped my eyes. Upon opening them, I sucked in my breath, eyes widening as my heart raced faster still, bracing myself for what was to come.</p>
<p>The three smaller dogs whose legs weren't as long were all upon me at once, the dazed dog from before seeming to almost have his bearings as he stumbled after them. I took a step back, preparing to run once more, pain shooting through my bitten leg immediately, a hiss escaping me. Their yipping caused me to flinch, two of them growling as they simultaneously jumped, too far apart for me to block them both with my pipe.</p>
<p>I opted to smack the one that now had its teeth clamped around my leg, its reach too short to bite the same area as before. My screaming pierced the dreadful atmosphere, my feet stumbling once more as the other's sharp claws scratched through my clothing, drawing blood with even the lightest of movements, its teeth continuing to snap at air as it tried to climb up my leg to bite my arm. It succeeded, causing yet another to howl to escape me before smacking it in the head as well, sending it flying a few yards away.</p>
<p>My pulse was now thrumming so fast I could feel it pounding in my head, making me rather nauseous. Both of my legs were now in utter agony, my left arm more or less useless through the pain. For a flicker of a moment, my thoughts snapped to Tommy, wondering where he was while I suffered before remembering. With an extraneous amount of effort, I managed to bring my pipe up high enough and sending its point down hard enough into the last dog's back before it could attack me as well, gritting my teeth as I tried to pull it back out. For some reason it refused to die, fighting me as I tried to take the pipe out from its dying body.</p>
<p>With panic coursing through my veins, I glanced away from the dog, realizing the other three dogs would soon be over their temporary setback, one of them already preparing to rush me once more. The dog below me kept thrashing about, the pipe driven so deeply inside it that it was now wedged so that I was unable to remove it. I sucked in my breath, unable to merely pick up the pipe, dog and all, with my shaking, injured arm.</p>
<p>So I ran. My weapon was useless to me now anyway, and there was also the smallest of possibilities that the dogs were too dazed to fully catch up to me just yet. Some of my brown bangs got into my already blood-splattered face, and I had to push it away to see the tree clearly once more, not as far as I had thought it to be. Whether or not I could climb it had yet to be seen.</p>
<p>My running at this point was more like a rapid hobble, my legs practically feeling as though they'd fall of then and there. But the sheer amount of fear coursing through me was enough to push through my agony, sparing a quick glance back. The remaining three dogs were now gaining on me once again, and this time with no weapon, I wasn't sure if I stood a chance. I might have whimpered at the thought of having made such a bold decision, only to die hours after.</p>
<p>The tree was almost within reach, only a few more strides more and I'd reach its base. The growling of the largest dog, the one I'd smacked with my pipe was now just behind me. I had but a moment to brace myself for the onslaught of pain I knew I couldn't spare myself from, tears stinging my eyes as my finger grazed against the worn bark of the tree. Just as I was preparing to climb, I felt something heavy on my back, claws shredding the delicate skin while I screamed into the air.</p>
<p>The dog was on my back, slicing it to tatters to hold itself in place. My knees crumbled from the sudden pressure, breathing shaky as I tried to pull myself back up and ignore the hound that was trying to fit my head in its mighty jaws. I tried bucking it off, but my body was much too weak, my arm reaching pathetically up for the nearest branch. Another scream as it managed to snag my left ear between its teeth, the sharp jerking of its head tearing the soft cartilage in two.</p>
<p>While the thought brought me to the edge of tears, I realized that I might soon be forced to admit that this was where I met my gory demise, torn apart and eaten alive by the very animals that made up my food supply. A groan, another push to get the dog off me, another desperate reach for the branch despite knowing that any hope at this point was useless, only serving to despair me more.</p>
<p>Somehow my screams became even more pained, my fingers clawing into the bark to alleviate my pain as the other two dogs caught up, sinking their teeth into my legs once more. Even if I made it out of this alive, there was no way I could survive on my own anymore. My legs were simply too injured. I looked up to the sky through the tree's thinning leaves, delirious from agony as I wept for Tommy, feeling myself being eaten alive.</p>
<p>With a final surge of effort and last burst of adrenaline, I brought my legs up, wrapping them against the trunk to kick the smaller dogs off me, ignoring how painful the scrapes against the bark were. Through tears, I tried bucking the dog on my back off, failing, but at least got him to stop trying to tear into my arm temporarily. Feeling the claws of one of the dogs below me, I pulled myself higher, one of my hands now in reach of the branch.</p>
<p>The sheer amount of anguish that racked my body was simply indescribable, something I had never in my life experienced before. With clammy hands I held the branch in my grasp, not daring to even loosen my iron grip as I continued hauling myself up. Another scratch at my legs, another motivation to go higher. Desperate, I attempted to buck off the dog yet again, this time high enough to succeed. It fell to the ground with a yelp, whimpering from hitting itself on something. I paid it no mind, forcing my depleted muscles to pull myself up with more strength than I'd ever used in my life.</p>
<p>Huffing and wincing, I somehow managed to pull my legs onto the branch, pulling them in as I leaned against the trunk, the amount of strain I'd just put on my body threatening to kill me itself. Everything was shaking, from my chest to my vision, causing me to numbly glance down at the dogs trying to make their way up the tree. I let out a breath I'd been holding ever since I'd first laid eyes upon them, letting my body finally rest against the wooden trunk, ignoring how it send waves of pain in my shredded back.</p>
<p>The experience was almost more surreal than anything else that had happened to me yet, the memory almost refusing to ingrain itself in my memory from how painful it was alone. I wouldn't have minded if I forgot all about this anyway if I was being honest, finally letting my lids flutter shut. My heart continued pounding, although a new aching had settled alongside the almost impossible amount of pain already there.</p>
<p>My grip around the branch beneath me loosened, my consciousness slipping. Anguish started consuming me slowly as I tentatively took one of my hands and wrapped it around the other, squeezing it with the little energy I had left. I missed him already.</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>
  <strong>Skeppy POV</strong>
</p>
<p>I sat at the borders of the city, not caring about how the water lapped at my feet. I'd been sitting here for a while now, watching the sky as the sun began to set, the first stars starting to glisten in the night sky. They seemed to mock me, the stars. A tears trailed down my face, but I didn't wipe it away. Instead, I curled into myself further, fighting back the frustration and devastation in my chest.</p>
<p><br/>Watching Tommy die hadn't been as satisfying as I thought it'd be. His wretched face as he realized I was leaving him to die replayed in my mind, haunting me, even though he deserved it. He deserved every shitty, drawn out moment of agony as his body bled out. I bit my quivering lip, Bad's tiny duck tight in my grasp.</p>
<p>I didn't regret letting him die. It was how people survived in this hell, by using things when they were useful and ditching them when they're not. I must say though, I was surprised when Tubbo abandoned Tommy as well, apparently having realized this same fact. The boy had gotten too full of himself, too cocky and overbearing to be a good partner anymore. Nothing at all like Bad.</p>
<p>Even the mere mention of his name sent a pang through my heart. I had hoped that Tommy's death could soothe my weary soul, although it seemed to do little to heal the emptiness that Bad left. But Tommy deserved to die, not Bad, not Darryl, so I shouldn't be hurting so much. Nothing had any right to hurt this much.</p>
<p>I whimpered, fingers sinking into my scalp as I tried to keep the memories at bay, the memories I'd been trying so desperately to suppress. Tears fell freely yet silently through my hitched breathing, trying to forget how unfair Bad's death had been. It was Tommy's fault he was dead, all Tommy, Tommy had no right to live in place of Bad, the kindest person that had graced the Earth. But now the score was settled, now I could be free from the guilt in my chest, now Tommy had taken his blame and my suffering away, now I didn't have to <em>fucking remember anymore</em>.</p>
<p>Stupidly, I glanced to the stars overhead through my bleary vision. They twinkled coldly, their brilliance reminding me of just how warm Bad was. "The stars, Skeppy," He had told me. "They're shining for me."  Those were the last words to grace his lips. After weeks of holding it all in, the stars finally broke me, sending me into a sniveling, trembling mess as my body refused to breathe.</p>
<p>I wanted to forget so bad, but the memory forced its way into my thoughts. His nervous face as he walked into the large hall, the way he adjusted his glasses as he scanned the bustling room, how his face lit up upon seeing me. I remember how we rushed towards each other, pulling each other into the tightest and warmest hug I could remember, forgetting all about Bad's luggage as we cheered in joy. His smile, it was so bright. I don't think I'd ever seen a star shine that bright.</p>
<p>I remember the moment he realized he reached for his carry-on to give me a gift, only to realize he'd left it, sheepishly going back to retrieve it while I stood, waiting ecstatically for my best friend. I remember when the ground trembled beneath my feet, confused by the shaking. I'd felt earthquakes before, but none as strong as this. I remember being stunned into place, confused as I saw Bad approaching, how he screamed desperately as he ran towards me as fast as humanely possible despite how difficult the trembling floor below us made it.</p>
<p>I remember tilting my head, stunned in place by the thrumming of my heart. I remember being confused as to why Bad was screaming at me, screaming so, so loudly, running faster than I'd thought possible. I remember his body colliding with my own, hand pushing me out of the spot where I'd been standing. I remember whipping my head around, only to see a chunk of the roof over the spot I'd been standing fall.</p>
<p>I remember, I remember, I remember, <em>I remember it all</em>. Bad smiled at me, so warmly and reassuringly in a way that was uniquely his own, indescribable to any who didn't know him and his endless kindness. His body wasn't fast enough to move out of the way of the oncoming rock, his scream painful to my soul as I watched his lower body disappear underneath, a thick metal rod piercing through his chest. There was a flourish of unholy red, face ghastly pale, his body crushed and torn in two. He looked at me, glasses sliding off his face, exposing the tears behind them while he choked for breath.</p>
<p>Somehow though he was still smiling, almost as if he were glad he was moments away from death. My legs moved on their own towards my friend, the best friend any one could ask for, the one that had gotten me through so much and had singlehandedly made my life worth much more than I could have possibly imagined. With his last ounces of strength, he reached for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze while his gaze fluttered briefly to the night sky above, now visible that the roof was collapsed on his body.</p>
<p>"The stars, Skeppy," His breathless voice whispered to me, almost like a song. "They're shining, for me." I still couldn't tell if it was the earth or myself that was shaking so, but my eyes widened as Bad's eyes dulled, the stars he so adored no longer shining brightly in them. More anguish than I thought possible suddenly wracked my body at once, Bad's hand going limp enough to release what it was he'd been holding into my waiting palm.</p>
<p>It was a duck. A stupid key-chain souvenir he'd probably bought for three bucks while he was waiting for his plane while thinking of me. He was so brave, going on a plane alone, only to die being crushed by his beloved sky. I clutched his parting gift in my tingling, numbing hands, unable to get any breath because of how fast my heart was pumping against my ribs. My sobbing echoed in the night, clawing desperately at the ground and scalp as I felt everything become heavy, guilt trying to force its way into my stomach.</p>
<p>"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" I screamed, the shrieking falling on the deaf ears of whatever was listening, if anything at all. "I-IT'S TOMMY'S! PLEASE, IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" I don't know who I screamed to as I wept, my very soul breaking, refusing to believe the thoughts that found themselves lingering dangerously in my mind.</p>
<p>"Bad should be the one that's alive," I muttered, words practically unrecognizable as speech as I choked on my own tongue. "Not me." Even though the words burned everything inside of me, causing me grief I hadn't known I'd been holding back, I spit them out, every muscle in my body positively trembling as if another earthquake had come.</p>
<p>My body felt like it was tearing itself apart from the inside, but I didn't care, gritting my teeth while the hot, salty water trickled down my neck. None of this was fair; Nothing good in the world would ever allow something so horrid to happen to Bad yet let Tommy keep living that long. Despite how dreadfully painful the thoughts were, I couldn't help but keep bitterly determined to stay alive.</p>
<p>I was going to survive, no matter what. I didn't care about the thoughts in my head or how stomach grumbled in starvation. I would do whatever it took to stay alive, if not for my own selfish sake, then for Bad's. With fiery eyes I glared at the night sky. No matter what, I wouldn't let his death be in vain.</p>
<p>No matter what, I would not die.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. A Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long wait! :D This chapter will probably make you change your mind on who the ??? is unless you were guessing someone that wasn't Wilbur</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Wilbur POV<br/></b>
</p><p>My body ached in places I hadn't been aware could ache, my feet and legs especially burdened by my long trek. I hadn't managed to get a change of clothes, so my soggy pants and socks were clinging to my skin, chilling me as I walked through wherever the hell it was that I was walking through. At least the sun was high, and that consoled me enough to keep pressing forward, its warmth gracious despite how it caused sweat to trickle down my back.</p><p>I'd lost track of the days I'd been out here, wandering on my own. The last people I'd seen from a distance weren't exactly friendly, my hands unintentionally shaking at the thought. I placed a tentative hand over my heart, its rapid pulse a steady reminder that I was still alive while I sucked in a shaky breath, putting one more foot in front of the other as I continued.</p><p>After so long I had no idea what I looked like apart from the harrowing glimpses I got from the water when it stilled enough for me to see my reflection in it. The sight was murky, broken and deformed, yet I still shuddered at the sight of it, choosing to ignore how glazed my eyes were and how ghastly my figure was in the baggy and torn clothes that once fit me so well. Pulling at my hair did nothing to relieve the pent up dread and frustration that constantly pressed down upon my chest. All I could do was ignore it, continue ignoring it just like how I ignored my weakening state and raw panic.</p><p>A growing noise from somewhere to my left startled me, my head instinctively whipping around wide-eyed to the source of the sound despite how distant it seemed. I paused my walking, letting the water still around me as my steps stopped disturbing its murky bottom, listening more intently for the quiet sounds of in the distance. I frowned upon hearing the unintelligible noise persist, whatever it was too far away for me to see be sure of what it was. My breath hitched, my fingers curling tighter around my sharpened blade which I found carrying in my grasp more and more recently.</p><p>The panic that coursed through my veins was not unfamiliar, my senses heightening fully as I continued staring in the direction, frozen in place. Glancing around, all I could see was a watery, muddy wasteland with the occasional tree sprung up, faults and breaks in the earthen surface making it all but impossible to be certain that something wasn't hiding just out of view. The noise persisted, not getting any louder or softer, but certainly far. Very far and very loud. There was nothing that could make that much noise from that far, unless...</p><p>My pulse hiked while I tried to maintain a level breathing pace, inhaling and exhaling as best and slow as I could while I tentatively lowered my weapon, seeing no imminent threat. Cautiously and with a paranoia great enough to cause my hands to tremble, I forced my sore body to divert its path to the fault line that had been running besides me for some time now. It wasn't so hard to overcome and quite frankly not even that high, although I suppose I would have really rather not have, wincing when a sharp grass blade found its way into my still healing wound on my hand.</p><p>"Son of a <em>bitch</em>," A grunt escaped me as lifted a leg over, using the extra few feet of height to once again analyze my surroundings. The sun glinted off the shallow, filthy water, although its light seemed ready to die in just an hour or two, accenting the broken terrain perfectly. There were less spaces for dogs to hide around here, although now that I gave it more thought, I hadn't had a dog encounter at all last night. </p><p>I frowned at that, trying to recall just how many I've seen today. Only a mere barking of a relatively small, faraway pack somewhere off in the distance earlier. When I had stopped to pause and listen, I couldn't even hear them yipping anymore, only the faint, piercing shrieks of some unfortunate soul that were carried by the wind, barely audible despite my hardest attempts to listen.</p><p>Something trickled onto my lip, and touching the chapped surface gently, I saw my finger tainted a distinctive red when I brought it for my eyes to see. I licked my bitten lips to clear the blood, wiping my hand mindlessly as my thoughts lingered to that scream. Would I have helped whoever it was that had desperately screamed for help if I was able to do so? I was horrified with myself when my mind didn't tell me yes. I shuddered, instead closing my eyes for a brief moment to be able to listen to the persistent sound that was now occupying my thoughts and fear, trying to forget I had ever asked the petrifying question.</p><p>My eyes fluttered open so that I could squint at the area I was almost certain the sound was coming from. Then I almost immediately stumbled off the fault when they widened again at the sight. I saw crumbled buildings in the distance, many of them stacked and pressed together, almost as though they were the remains of a city. My stomach growled hungrily, my last meal from yesterday too small and pathetic for me to be satisfied.</p><p>Even if there weren't people in the ruins, that would mean more loot for me to shift through, and the thought was enough to motivate my legs to pump ever faster. Water splashed around me, droplets splashing and wetting me as I ran as fast as I dared, ignoring just how sore my body already was from the constant strain I had been putting it under. But that didn't matter; As long as I could stay alive, I didn't particularly care if I hurt.</p><p>It was a stupid wish, to stay alive despite having nothing to live for, but if I was being honest, I was more afraid of dying than anything else. I was completely and utterly alone, everyday more of a struggle to fend off hunger, anguish, and loneliness than the last, but I remained alive by sheer luck and a little common sense. There was a break in the earth obscured by the clouded water that I hadn't seen, sending me falling down whilst I cursed at the earth.</p><p>I yelped as my foot slipped, sending a shoot of  pain through my side as I landed heavily on it, a hiss slipping through my clenched teeth while I curled into myself slightly. There was that original instinct that told me to get back up, to keep running immediately towards the ruined city, although the stinging in my side shook me back into focus. </p><p>For a moment, there was even a moment where I considered laying back down onto the sodden earth and merely not getting back up at all. My hand tenderly touched the afflicted arm I had landed on, my breath heavy as I lay there, cheek glistening from something wet that wasn't the from the swamp surrounding me. My breath hitched, my hand finding its way to my heart so that I could clench the surrounding damp cloth.</p><p>Groaning, I pushed myself back up into a sitting position, giving myself a moment to breathe before I felt the adrenaline rush leave me, although my heart was still pounding, pounding inside my ribs. My chest ached without air and my stomach growled without food, all the while my mind felt itself tearing in two with the beginnings of a splitting headache, forcing me to pull my hair as I leaned forward and clenched my teeth.</p><p>My hands shouldn't have been shaking so bad, but they were. None of this should have happened, but it did. I shouldn't have been so broken, but here I was. Keeping myself together, yet one trip nearly sending me tearing apart by the seams. I was so utterly fucked. I scrunched my face whilst I tugged my hair while I tried my best to not let my thoughts go too in depth, merely focusing on the fresh ache in my side.</p><p><em>Never let yourself linger too much on things that don't matter</em>, I chastised myself, taking a shaky breath in while I pried my eyes open, forcing them to take in the sun from behind my rather long bangs. I flinched at the sight, not finding enough energy to force myself to stand, instead letting myself rest for a moment longer. My body was so tired. I was so tired.</p><p>Perhaps my neglect on my internal turmoils wasn't the best strategy I'd come up with, but it was the one I found worked the best. Shoving all other thoughts aside, my hunger flared up again, demanding a meal lest it tear me apart. So I mindlessly listened to it, simply shutting down everything to focus on the increasing noise while the sun beat down on me, the buildings that were reduced to rubble getting closer with every step. I didn't smile as I approached them, the task of walking tedious and rather frightening now that I though of it.</p><p>I paused near a fault where I could perhaps take cover should I need it, stuffing my trembling hand deep into my pant's pocket. I licked my bleeding lip again, taking in what seemed to be the city's edge from a far enough distance that I could somewhat discern what was going on in the borders. Really, I hadn't known what I expected. People here were scarce, but people nonetheless, the majority of the population that had survived the tremors and floods smost likely concentrated deeper into the ruins, those standing about where it was visible merely mulling about to pass time or leaving the city.</p><p>Of course they noticed me, but they didn't care. There were only about a dozen, but they all looked so very tired. A man walked passed, pace decent enough as he made his way into the distance, empty bag slumped over his shoulders with a long blade in the other. There was a girl that stared at the bag longingly before her attention was caught by me. She tilted her head at the sight, but otherwise her face remained neutral. I quickly scurried past, ignoring her hungry staring into my bag.</p><p>The deeper into the city I got, the more crowded it became, a surprisingly larger number than I expected having survived. Although to be fair, I had no fucking clue where I even was. This could be Moscow and I'd be none the wiser, although based off the high number of French speakers I could only assume this to be somewhere in France. I chuckled to myself, wondering if perhaps I might be able to finally see the Eiffel Tower before I die. The joke was too morbid for me just now though, and I winced at the thought.</p><p>The streets were fairly narrow, although that was mostly due to the sheer amount of vendors that had goods and knick-knacks displayed in exchange for whatever kind of currency was being used in the end of the world. The collapsed buildings whose hard brick and concrete were spilled into the streets didn't help, and the deeper I got, the harder it was to avoid shoving a person, although not as hard as I expected for what seemed to be the 'heart' of the city.</p><p>I could tell it was the heart from how concentrated and packed everyone was, some sort of spectacle occurring not far from where I stood looking over one vendor's goods that were particularly intriguing to me, displayed on a a relatively smooth and thin slab of concrete. The wares on display weren't particularly useful; These seemed to be one of the less sensible shops where shiny and relatively pretty items were shown. Still, I found myself continuing to stare while people shoved my shoulders constantly.</p><p>While it surprised me that the heart was closer to the edge of the ragtag town in place of wherever the old center had been, I didn't bother thinking about it too much, instead kneeling down to get a better view of the vendors wares. Some of the charms caught my eye, one in particular with a broken necklace chain especially interesting. I don't know why I kept looking at them though, they were only going to sadden me.</p><p>"<em>Want anything?</em>" The vendor asked in French, a young woman with tangled, greasy hair, much like the rest of the people here, me included. I held my tongue while I looked at them, pausing when a sudden roar erupted from the crowd a few hundred yards away. Whatever was going on there must have important, for the whole lot of them were cheering, screaming, and overall just making such a loud ruckus, all packed in together as tight as they could manage and a little more. The girl in front of me said nothing as her gaze was drawn to the crowd as well, face all but impartial as the crowd parted slightly for a man to pass.</p><p>"<em>That is the pit,</em>" She explained unhelpfully, my attention snapping back to her. "<em>You're obviously new, so let me give you some advice. Only fools bet in the pit. You're better off hunting for food yourself.</em>" Her words surprised me, her once sweet and business like facade falling into one that made it clear she thought I was no longer any value to her. She continued staring at me though, as though daring me to go and see for myself, almost like she knew her words would have no effect on me.</p><p>"<em>Can I trade you something for this?</em>" I asked in broken French, the girl rolling her eyes as she haphazardly tossed me what it was I pointing at, although whether or not it was because of my butchering of the language or her evident indifference to if I ignored her advice or not. Perhaps it was both. She mumbled something under her breath in a language I didn't recognize, shooing me off when I thanked her for the item, almost immediately running as fast as I could manage to the  crowd.</p><p>The sheer amount of sweat that began clinging to my skin from merely standing in the uncomfortable warmth was enough to make my breath heavy from the stuffy air that was far from breathable, but I pushed forward regardless, more intrigued than anything. Was this a  gambling ring, like dog-fighting or something of the sort? Despite being more than six feet tall, I still had to lift myself onto my toes to catch a glance of what was in the middle of this 'pit.' When I did my heart stopped beating.</p><p>There was a corpse in the pit, a human corpse. He, or at least I thought it was a he, had his entire body sliced beyond recognition. The size of the body made it seem as though he were only about twelve or thirteen, blood glistening a thick red as it pooled into the surrounding water, a gruesome chunk of his stomach somehow missing, replaced instead with the darkest shade of deep crimson I had ever seen that dribbled and seeped into his clothes. Part of his skull caved into his head, mouth open mid-scream, although there seemed to be too much blood still dribbling down it for his efforts to matter much. I couldn't even see his eyes through his red-stained bangs.</p><p>I choked on my own air, bringing a horrified hand up to cover my mouth while my body trembled. There were some shouts and complaints thrown my way as I stumbled backwards, too shocked and appalled to do much more than shake. Surely that sight wasn't real, right? The rising nausea in my stomach made me double over on the side, retching only air and saliva while my body shook. I felt someone kick me, sending me careening onto the ground, body still heaving while I shook. Their grumbled of displeasure fell on deaf ears while I felt so very mortified.</p><p>No, that wasn't real, I reasoned, feeling something prickle my eyes while my body gave another, more painful heave from my spot on the ground. I winced when another kick landed on my backside, somebody trying to get me to move from my spot in the edge of the crowd. My sheer disgust and horror wasn't letting up though, the crowd not caring any more about the corpse as they roared up for 'one last game' as the game master announced. Another? There was going to be another?</p><p>Still shaking, I got back onto my legs, my knees making it very hard for me to do so. The crowd seemed especially fired up as two more contestants entered, the previous two having already left. The victor slipped out with a hopeful smile on her face, while the other was unceremoniously dragged by some hefty man into the crowd, who parted around them only briefly so that they could regain their spot in time for the next match as soon as possible. I shivered, feeling the cold, dead eyes of the boy watch me, blood smearing on the ground as he was dragged away. The grisly sight was nearly enough to make me retch again.</p><p>My eyes were drawn to the two opponents now preparing for this pit fight, both tense and inexperienced with uncertain stances. Both were children. I bit my lip, slipping my way out of the crowd easily while blood-thirsty spectators pushed past to take my spot. I felt a kind of sickness I hadn't known existed before, horror seeping through my veins in such vast amounts that I felt paralyzed just by the thought of it. I couldn't bear to see more, instead using my harrowed eyes to see the boy's corpse being hauled somewhere behind the crowd.</p><p>With shaky legs, I felt compelled to follow them. I didn't expect much, if anything at all, so I don't know why I did so when I knew I would only become a mess at the sight. Somehow what I saw was so much worse than anything I could have even imagined.</p><p>There were perhaps a little more than a dozen bodies laid to waste, some alive, although most not. There were people walking amongst them as well, eyeing me cautiously and threateningly, although none even tried helping the children that had somehow managed to survive getting publicly mutilated. The handful of them only stared at me, hungrily, as though I had made myself an enemy just by coming to visit the corpses.</p><p>Lightheaded and with horrified eyes, my gaze snapped to the freshest of bodies in the area: The small boy was haphazardly dumped so that his body was slumped unnaturally against a larger slab of concrete, blood still dribbling and turning the muddy earth even redder than it already was. I unconsciously shuddered moving forward hesitantly until I was about a foot away from the boy's corpse.</p><p>I knew I was mortified when I crouched down in front of the boy, gingerly brushing some of his dark hair out from his face. Although despite my indescribable horror at the sight... I was too dumbfounded to do much more than stare. I stayed still for a minute, silently praying to anything that would listen that... I wasn't sure. Hesitantly, I got back up, only to see a sight even worse than the young boy's gutted figure left to rot. Although now I see that they weren't just left to rot.</p><p>"Wh- What are y-you doing?" I whimpered, feeling myself go downright pale as my entire body blanched. One of the men looked up at me, no longer seeing me as a threat but a mere annoyance. Blood dribbled down his chin, his entire shirt red as he chewed.</p><p>"Get lost," He grumbled, hungrily carving his serrated blade into the stomach of one of the losers, her eyes glazed and face ghastly, clearly having been dead for ages. Sloppily, he reached one of his bare hands into the red muck, pulling out something thin, absolutely slathered and coated in the slimy, reflective surface of the girl's blood. Gracelessly, the vulture shoved it into his mouth, the squalshing sound from his teeth tearing into the delicate organ whilst he chewed unbearable and overbearing, red dots littering his upper lips and all his features.</p><p>"You mons-" I began, only for my words to falter and breath to fall short. The man ignored me, his comrades doing much the same, using there blades to slice up their preferred chunks, one even biting the meat straight from the carcass. They might be monsters, but the sight wasn't completely unexpected, in fact, I couldn't help but wonder if I wouldn't do the same. Sure, my knees trembled, my heart stopped, and I felt like throwing up at the sight of a mere child being eaten raw, but... If I was hungry enough, I don't know if I'd be able to...</p><p>My eyes flickered as one of the vultures approached a blond boy, this one still alive with a nasty gash in his stomach, a little older than most of the other contestants slumped painfully on the cold, wet earth. The vulture made a cautious reach for his arm, only for the boy to pull away as fast as he could, breath heavy and erratic, the small movement taking much of his little energy. The vulture grumbled, but pulled away, exposing the boy's face as he went to find another victim, one easier to eat that he didn't have to kill himself.</p><p>The boy had dull blue, half-lidded eyes, hardly any light reflecting in them even though the sun was still so unbearably bright in the sky. His clothes were baggy on him, covering up his thin and harrowed frame well, but not doing nearly enough to cover up the ungodly amount of blood that had seeped into the cloth despite the boy's best attempts to put pressure on his wound. His face was littered with scars, chest moving up and down slowly yet unevenly, on the verge of unconsciousness.</p><p>I knew for certain that if the boy closed his eyes, he would never wake up again, and it seemed as though the boy knew it as well. He kept huffing, desperately clinging on to what might be his last strings of life, although he seemed just about ready to give up. For some reason, that didn't stir right with me, so I moved from my spot by the deceased boy to the one that was soon to join him.</p><p>The closer I got with heavy steps that splashed the mud around me, the more something inside me started to irk. Something was familiar about him, although I could have sworn my mind was playing tricks on me as I kneeled down besides him, the boy so similar yet so different to a boy I used to know, back before my life got turned upside-down. At first I could have sworn it was him, but he was just too... Different from what I remembered.</p><p>He flinched away from me at first, fully prepared to fight with all the anger and hurt left in him. With the little fire he and fighting spirit he had left he tried for a glare, teeth bared tiredly as he prepared to scare me off as well. Then our eyes met and his glare faltered and face fell, tears pricking his already tear-stained cheeks after a moment of him taking in my face. His face softened, and suddenly he looked like a child, voice quivering as spoke, and I realized that this boy did not just seem familiar.</p><p>"Wilb...?" Tommy croaked, my breath hitching while my eyes widened. His hand trembled as he reached for me, and mindlessly, I took it, my mouth ajar in shock while I stared at him. His breath was shallow and weak as he shook, eyes so pleading and despairing with so much pain as he stared up at me, as though he had some childish, innocent hope that I could suddenly fix him.</p><p>"Tommy?" I breathed back after a pause to let my thoughts catch up with the sight before me, a few drops trickling down my own cheeks while the boy in front of me nodded. Tommy squeezed my hand, as though he needed something from it, but when I merely stared down at him sadly, he eventually stopped, looking crestfallen and even more shaken. My chest panged for him, anguish starting to consume me as his thin body started to tremble, eyes fluttering to stay awake while he stared at me.</p><p>"St-stay awake Tommy!" I pleaded breathlessly in a suppressed panic, twitching as I attempted for a small smile, giving him a firm, distressed shake while he cried silently. Tommy's eyes fell from mine, glancing instead to a spot besides him where a piece of paper lay a glance. My gaze followed his own, but the words on it too smudged by the muddy earth to read any longer. The paper soon left my mind, my heart suddenly pounding as several thoughts rushed through my mind at once, all going fifty miles an hour, and all panicking about the thin boy in front of me.</p><p>First of all, I wasn't alone anymore. I found Tommy, here, alive. But he was also on the verge of death, stomach already flaring from the beginnings of a nasty infection. If he died here... I was already getting jumpy just thinking about the pain of having someone I care so much about just die right after I found them. I couldn't live with the knowledge that Tommy was begging me for help if I let him down. I was scared of dying, but somehow, the thought of my friend, this stupid, obnoxiously bright child dying was just so much worse.</p><p>"You're going to be okay Tommy," I told him as calmly as I could, but my words still came out shaky, matching my racing pulse and trembling arms that I used to scoop underneath him, causing him to groan while he nodded pathetically. "You'll be f-fine." When I lifted him up, he screamed, curling in on himself and protecting his stomach with his arms, whimpering and holding back tears.</p><p>"Wilb..." Tommy repeated, using one of his hands to clamp around my coat in an attempt to dull the pain. "I don't want to..." His voice faltered on his words, but I was painfully aware of what it was he was trying to say. My heart was now pounding in my ears as I carried him, the boy so big yet so small at the same time, desperately holding out onto his life as long as he could bear. Holding back his screams while I ran with him in my arms, I grit my teeth, searching for any stall that sold medicine in my mad dash through the unfamiliar streets.</p><p>"You won't die Tommy," I whispered to him, clutching around his clothes in a tight, wobbly grip. For the first time in months, I was motivated with a purpose, a hope to do more than survive. Tommy stiffened at my next words, but I paid it no mind, instead pushing myself harder to find anything to keep him alive. Tommy was like family, after all.</p><p>"I promise, I won't let you die, no matter what." </p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <b>Tubbo POV</b>
</p><p>"Son of a bitch," I huffed, my breath heavy as I grunted, reapplying my bandages as best I could around my ear and legs. I winced as I did so, muttering yet more curses underneath my breath as I sighed, leaning back against the tree trunk. I found myself too weak and exhausted to move even though the dogs were long gone, most likely due to the blood loss. Not to mention to emotional toll the past twenty four hours took on me that I still refused to pay attention to, but pestered my mind nonetheless.</p><p>I gazed towards the direction of the city, the silhouette of its ruins visible from where I sat perched on my tree. The image instantly brought up a memory of Tommy, one where the two of us were screaming at each other in Skeppy's stifling room. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to forget once again, pushing aside all the words I hadn't said then out of my mind. </p><p>I had two things to console myself from that hellhole, and ironically enough, were probably the only two things I had to console myself with. One was that Tommy no longer had a reason to fight in the pit, now that I was gone. He said he was fighting in that god forsaken pit to get enough food for us both, but I knew it was really because he thought he had no other choice to keep me from starving. The second... The rough surface of the notebook was soothing to my fingers as I brought it closer to my chest.</p><p>Was it selfish of me to take his journal? I held my breath as I lingered on an answer, gaze lost and pained as I stared at the rough surface. But it didn't matter anymore, even if I wanted to return it. It was far too late. I had already taken it, and I was already far enough gone from the city that continued to haunt my nightmares for me to turn back now. </p><p>My body instinctively shuddered under the plethora of vulturous stares, all of their eyes lingering for just a moment longer than they should have with such raw hunger I whimpered. I recoiled as  those blood-stained dreams came to mind, how Tommy's glazed eyes would look up at me in red water, body dismantled and chest still. My hand twitched as I felt the journal, clutching it close, my only remaining reminder of Tommy.</p><p>I shivered in the dying light as night starting falling, remembering my friend doing more harm than good. But I couldn't help it. I was now utterly alone, and even though Tommy could be so short-sighted at times, he was a good friend. Tommy cared, and I knew it. That night when I was reading the journal, I remember reading his entries, soaking in his words. He was surprisingly more honest when transcribing events in it than I had anticipated, but while the words written only brought back bad memories, there was one entry that crushed my very soul.</p><p>It was small, written apart from all the other entries, but the ink was so thick that it was clear Tommy had pressed down and poured his everything into his words.</p><p>
  <em>Tubbo almost drowned today. He stopped breathing and I thought I'd actually lose him. I won't let it happen again. I'd rather die than go through that again. I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to him no matter what. Nothing is going to stop me from keeping that promise. Tubbo's not going to die on my fucking watch. We're going to stay alive.</em>
</p><p>"You motherfucker," I whispered, my clawed up cheek burning through the multitude of scrapes and slices in it. I was really in a shitty situation, but there was little I could do about it besides try to keep myself from thinking too long about how the journal might never return to Tommy's hands. But the thought was too painful, and my cheeks stung even more when something salty found its way into the open wounds.</p><p>"You can't keep promises if you're dead," I told the darkening sky, giving my hand a squeeze, wondering just how Tommy was taking my disappearance. I knew I was taking it poorly; It was all I could do to not curl up and sob at merely the thought of having to be on my own, but I found some solace in knowing he was alright.</p><p>After all, he was Tommy. He was too stubborn to die.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Partial Recovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the late chapter, hope you like it though :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Tommy POV</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>There was someone here with me, wading next to me in the waist-high water. The sky was dark and clouded, which blocked out almost all of the abnormally bright moonlight. The few rays that did shine through glistened on the still water, small patches of brilliant white illuminating my hands as I reached for the shadowed person.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The figure's features were all but obscured by the darkness, the only thing really visible to me being the quaint briefcase carried in their hands, reflecting the light so brightly I could hardly make out its silhouette. They reminded me of someone familiar, somewhere like home.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the watery, blurred way of my dreams recently, I reached out with my right hand limply, inviting the figure to take my hand. Their head turned slowly, a small ray that peeked from the thick clouds above causing a small, bright glint to shine in the figure's eyes: A dull, grim blue tinged by the white of the night sky and framed by brown bangs, the same streak that lit up their face now spreading to their trembling, scarred hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The metallic briefcase the figure had been holding splashed audibly in the water, startling me, and temporarily fighting away the inescapable grogginess that had settled over me. In that moment of brief clarity, my eyes widened, chilled both by the ice-cold water and the dismal, despondent aura of the figure besides me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed before I could fully grasp the figure's importance, they turned towards me. The figure moved as though to lunge at me, the darkness not enough to hide their lips parting into a snarl, although I heard no sound coming out. The hands of whoever this was swiped at me ferociously, and by merely leaning back I dodged.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I watched silently as they fell backwards, crashing into the water, same as the briefcase. My eyelids were heavy, my spirit exhausted even in this strange, trance-like state, yet I still reached a hand into the water. Just like last time, the figure did not take it. I stood still for a moment, eyeing the still water where the figure had sunk into its shallow depths eerily.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was someone singing a familiar tune, my mind subconsciously filling in the accompanying guitar, listlessly humming along as I let myself sink into the water as well. The muck was so very cold, yet I couldn't feel it, letting the ambiguous sensation of the water surround and consume me. I reached blearily for the figure, but they were gone, only a sliver of moonlight peeking through to shine upon the briefcase they had dropped earlier.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a familiar knife wedged into its backside, letting water pour into it freely. My hands gingerly grabbed it, undoing the clasps to see what was inside. A part of me felt as though it already knew, yet I obeyed my irked curiosity anyway. I tilted my head upon viewing the interior, both confused and saddened by the sight.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a book, completely illegible from the water, and pinned against the lid of the briefcase by the knife. The pages writhed in the dark water limply, something ominous and sinister stirring in me, although it was drowned out by the sounds of the song still ringing in my ears. I let my eyes finally flutter close, leaning my head back so that I limply floated in the calm waters as well, allowing myself to finally relax to the sound of the song.</em>
</p><p>"I think this time I'm dying," A rich, feathery voice sang so softly I partly thought I was imagining it, feeling something warm delicately press against my forehead. "I think this time I'm dying..." A faint, quiet groan escaped my lips, the thing on my head stiffening at the barely audible sound, the song pausing at my feeble interruption. Something shuffled besides me, and despite the sheer agony I felt upon awakening, I forced my eyes to flutter open and see, the memory of my surreal dream already fading.</p><p>My breathing was heavy and hot, rasping against my throat as I struggled for every small portion of air I could manage. Everything seemed just too much as I groaned yet again, instinctively curling up on my stomach, pain flaring much stronger than I thought I could manage at every slight movement. The figure besides me made a soft shushing sound, gently pushing my head back down as I huffed. I was still too bleary to comprehend what was happening, only reaching for the figure to my right with a feeble hand.<br/><br/>A faint whimper of pain escaped me when the figure grabbed my hand, my unsteady breathing causing me to look up at them with blurred vision, desperate for consolation. My frayed mind recognized the chocolatey-brown hair, a small smile forming on my lips as I let myself sink into the makeshift bed he'd made for me. I tightened my grasp as best I could manage, pained breath sighing in relief as he gave my hand a light pat in return.</p><p>"You came... Back..." I managed through ragged breaths, a splitting headache beginning to take hold of me, threatening to lull me back to unconsciousness. "Tubbo..." I smiled at him blearily, muddled darkness already ebbing at my vision as my lids fluttered closed. The figure's hand stiffened, but I didn't pay it any mind, instead slipping back out of my temporary lucid state, the pain in my abdomen consuming me, threatening to follow even to my dreams.</p><p>"Stay awake, Tommy," The figure pressed, urgency still audible in his tone despite how soft and calm he spoke, as though hiding some sort of fear from me. "Come on now, don't fall asleep on me." I groaned when he poured a trickle of water on my face, reluctantly prying my eyes open to see the same figure looking down upon me, albeit rather sadly. Even though my face had never felt hotter, I still whined when the figure tried pouring more of the cool water over me, lifting a drowsy hand to try and shove it away.</p><p>I grit my teeth at the slight movement, grunting to ease my pain as the figure seemed to understand I wasn't appreciating the water. My eyes flitted back open partly to see him reach over me, brushing away my bangs to place something rather refreshing on my forehead, the coolness of whatever it was both pleasant against my hot face yet uncomfortable at once. I went to stubbornly brush it off, only to get a light smack on my wrist from the figure.</p><p>"Hurts," I whined, finally opening my eyes fully, groaning again as the bright afternoon light blinded me, the absence of a roof causing me to feel its full blast. The figure nodded while I tried shuffling myself around to fight off the last persisting remains of sleep from my eyes, growing tired of the bleariness. I winced when an awkward movement caused my stomach to flare in pain once more, taking in heavier and deeper breaths to try and resist the urge to scream.</p><p>"I know it does, Tommy," The figure said reassuringly, and I tilted my head slightly to see him smile down at me, relieved and hopeful as I continued groaning as I stirred myself awake, trying desperately to ignore my burning stomach. "But you're going to be okay, just- Stay awake." The voice sounded so calming.</p><p>I nodded grudgingly, trying to focus on the familiar voice, finally sobering up from my dreadfully heavy sleep. I looked up to him with hopeful eyes to meet his hidden behind those broken and cracked glasses of his, the memories from when I had last been awake coming back to me with a grateful smile.</p><p>"Wilb...?" My voice trailed off at the end, Wilbur's eyes tearing up as he nodded, giving my hair a quick, brotherly ruffle. Through the agony in my stomach I grinned, flinched at not the pain, but to how familiar the action was. I pushed my memories from weeks prior to the side, moving my fingers awkwardly in a gesture for Wilbur to stop. He smiled warmly, tears beginning to prick his eyes.</p><p>"Yeah, it's me Tommy," Wilbur answered softly, voice breaking a little as he mumbled 'me'. Something troubled him, and the one side of his glasses whose frame was crunched and dented did not help in hiding it. But he spoke nothing of it, instead reaching deep into his pockets to bring a small, orange bottle to light that would soon fade in perhaps less than an hour when sunset arrived. I scrunched his nose upon seeing it.</p><p>"Don't make that face," Wilbur snorted back, trying to joke around despite his intense worry still visible in the slight furrow of his brows. "You're lucky I managed to get my hands on something like this at all." If I was honest, I might have been becoming more lucid, but the pain that kept me quivering in place was still fogging up my mind a considerable amount. I wasn't even completely sure I wasn't hallucinating the man besides me.</p><p>"What is it?" I groaned, gritting my teeth as I lifted my hand to feel whatever it was on my forehead that was irritating me. Wilbur squinted his eyes to read the label while I tentatively touched the soggy surface on my head; It was a damp cloth, cool yet rapidly warming. My eyes fluttered slightly as I let my hand fall, inhaling sharply at the slight movement, my other hand instinctively reaching for my stomach. Wilbur looked at me pitifully when I couldn't suppress another groan.</p><p>"It's clinda-" Wilbur brought the faded label closer to his face, tilting his head as he struggled to read the washed-out ink. "My-sin? Me-sen? It doesn't matter, just take it." Careful so as to not spill a single one of the precious pills, Wilbur cracked open the lid, gently tilting the bottle so that two of them dropped into his hands. Somehow it made the bottle seem already nearly empty.</p><p>"They gave me this when I got in a real bad accident, I think," Wilbur insisted, using his free hand to grab my back despite my complaints and words of annoyance when he tried to get me to sit up. "It sh- will work for you too." There was a nervous smile on his parched and chapped lips, some sort of melancholic hopefulness in his small, warm eyes as he tried forcing a glass of water into my hands. Glass was being generous; It was some sort of thermos with a big dent in the side that caused it to never be more than half-full.</p><p>I was more than ready to protest, but I was interrupted with a grunt when another sudden shoot of pain racked my body, spreading from my stomach into my core as though someone had briefly yet forcibly tried tearing out my innards. A sudden spell of deliriousness befell me, eyes fluttering as his body nearly went limp, depending solely on the supporting arm behind me for those brief seconds.</p><p>"Fuck," I breathed through my hoarse throat, eyes flickering desperately to Wilbur, allowing him to slip the pair of pills into my hands. Begrudgingly and with a surprising amount of difficulty, I managed to swallow them, although I will admit I choked a few more times than I thought normal. Wilbur helped me bring the water to my lips, ignoring my spluttering as I tried coughing the pills back up, forcing me to finish the thermos despite how much the familiar sensation of water sliding down my throat made me want to throw up.</p><p>"You're going to be okay, Tommy," Wilbur reassured me, gently setting me back down so as to not hurt my stomach further. "Don't worry, you and me are going to tough it out, and I promise we'll be alri-" My eyes whipped to face him, my grip tightening so harshly against the pathetic thermos in my hands I could have sworn a dent was forming underneath my fingertips. His warm eyes flickered to the thermos curiously, but said nothing of it.</p><p>"Don't say something so fucking stupid," I snapped, causing Wilbur's face to go through an array of emotions before he finally settled on irritation." If you end up dying because you were too much of a moron to save me, I'm not going to feel sorry for you in the fucking slightest." The grogginess had finally passed, Wilbur's words snapping back all the memories of frustration and bitterness from when Skeppy left me to die.</p><p>"Excuse me?" Wilbur shot back, trying to keep the frustration out of his tone while I huffed and drew my gaze away from his twitching eye. "Tommy, I just saved your goddamn life and I haven't even gotten a thank you, yet you're already blowing up on <em>me?</em>" Wilbur shook his head in disbelief, pulling himself back up to his feet so that he towered over me intimidatingly.</p><p>"You don't know what I had to do to get you that medicine," Wilbur said sternly, slipping the thermos out from my hands with a sharp yank while I narrowed my eyes at him. "Just for a <em>chance</em> someone I care about will get better. And you're saying you wouldn't even care if I died?" There was a sort of silence as Wilbur's words sunk in, his harsh tone revealing a small fraction of the hurt he felt inside. I continued holding the stomach he must've bandaged for me with a sour expression on my face.</p><p>"When I first saw you, I didn't actually recognize you right away," Wilbur confessed, his peeved tone unintentionally mellowing out so that he sounded like little more than a dejected, desolate man. "Now I think I know why." Something inside my chest ached, and not from the wound in my abdomen.</p><p>I flinched as he walked past me, taking the thermos with him as he pulled the hood of his tattered jacket over him. It covered his hair so that only a piece of his lengthy bangs poked out, cold eyes hidden beneath the hem, his cracked glasses all I could make out clearly as he walked out the 'door' and out into the familiar streets of the city. I lay still for much longer than I thought I ought to have.</p><p>For the first time I glanced around the room. Everything in it was so familiar. Too familiar, from Wilbur's warmth and reassurance before I snapped, to the deteriorating, barely 'furnished' room I soon found myself in. I reached towards the crumbling exit Wilbur had left through, ignoring the pain that ravaged me some more, not realizing how something mildly salty dribbled down my cheek.</p><p>Wilbur's words stung, stung a little bit more than a knife twist in the gut. Because I found that I always cared a little too much. About George, about Dream, and... about Tubbo. I grit my teeth, curling in on myself as I brought my arm back for my other one to hold. This was all a little too familiar to me, especially now that I found myself alone. I was promised we'd always be together. I squeezed one hand with the other.</p><p>All those promises lay broken, and this one would be no different.</p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <strong>Tubbo POV</strong>
</p><p>I grunted, wincing as the burning sensation only managed to grow in intensity, yet I continued tightening the makeshift bandage I'd torn from my shirt around my ear anyways. I couldn't resist hissing as the rugged cloth met the exposed wound, the only thing I could do to ease my pain being to clench my teeth and grip the bark behind me fiercely. My groans soon settled down, though, light panting all that could be heard from the tree I'd slept in the night prior.</p><p>The sun was high in the sky, and I gazed up at the brilliant clouds above, unaffected by whatever hell had befell the surface. With a nimble, blood-stained hand, I parted my bangs so that they were on top of the bandage, letting them rest in their usual spot. They'd gotten a bit longer than I remembered if I was being honest. My gaze flickered towards the calm, shallow waters below.</p><p>The ground was a good way below me; With the amount of agony that spiked with every brief movement of my legs, I had no chance of jumping down without immediately crumbling into a miserable heap. Forcing myself to ignore the pain, I let my fingers curl around the thick branch I'd been sitting on. The rough surface of the bark caused me to hiss yet again, muttering curses at more scrapes found their way onto my hands.</p><p>I didn't linger to long on trying to wait for the pain to ease; I only knew it would grow worse anyway. Inhaling sharply, my eyes unconsciously flinched shut as I heaved my body off the branch. A guttural yelp rang from my throat, my lids fluttering back open, face contoured into a helpless expression as my hands burned, fingers barely holding onto the bark.</p><p>My breathing was short and erratic, and while the ground below was not far at all, I couldn't help but brace myself with clenched eyes and teeth as I let my agonizing grasp on the branch falter. I knew what would happen as soon as my foot met with the watery surface, yet I couldn't help but scream and stumble after falling the short distance. In barely more than ankle deep-water, I spluttered about, the coolness of the swamp not refreshing in the slightest.</p><p>I fumbled into a sitting position, scrunching my nose and furrowing my brows as I pulled my leg in close. "Fuck," I huffed, trying to soothe the leg I landed on my rubbing the scratched-up ankle. I sucked in my breath at the contact, my hands now doused with fresh blood from the rugged bark. I ended up forced to slip them underneath the murky surface, the closest thing I had to sanitation as my eyes flickered towards the thing I'd dropped down here for.</p><p>I must not have noticed, but sometime during my tussle with the dogs the bag I'd slung across my back had fallen, and now lay slumped in a heap at the base of the tree. Gritting my teeth once again, I crawled my way over to it, reaching my wet and bloodied hands deep into its contents, fishing for the cool, metallic surface of the briefcase. A relieved, faint smile graced my lips upon grasping it, pulling it out with delicate fingers.</p><p>It was a little dented, but it seemed to be perfectly fine, no water seeming to have made its way inside. Just to be safe though, I clicked the clasps open, not daring to touch Tommy's journals with my hands in the state they were in now. Somehow merely seeing the journal was enough to soothe my nerves for now, the pent-up anxiety in my chest that had been building ever since I'd left relieving for but a moment. I held the briefcase against my chest with one arm while I used the other to sling my bag across my back.</p><p>The thump I felt when its rather heavy contents slammed against my back cause me to wince and grunt, yet I ignored it. The plethora of deep scratches and wounds on my back couldn't be helped now; I couldn't reach them, and I had no supplies to anyway. My legs might have been in shambles after yesterday's fight, yet I used my good arm to help push me off the ground slowly, gritting and huffing with nearly as much energy as I exerted last night to stand.</p><p>It was a shaky process, but I managed it, eventually balancing my weight mostly on my good leg, the one that was both bitten and more severely scratched still quivering despite the little weight on it. More curses left my mouth as I searched for my pole, both a cane and my only useful weapon. I gave the land around me a quick glance over, unsure as to whether or not I should venture out for it.</p><p>There was no imminent danger besides starvation, it seemed, although I could never count on dogs to be far. The meal from yesterday wasn't fighting off my hunger anymore, I realized, yet I paid it no mind for now. Steeling my resolve, I lifted my injured leg, nearly tripping on myself from how agonizing the brief motion was. My gaze hardened on the horizon, from the direction I had come from, not even sparing a second thought to the faint silhouette of the city behind me.</p><p>Breathe in, breath out, and soldier through the burning that constantly crept into my very bones and the hunger that wanted to tear me apart once more. My grunting only got more manageable the more I stumbled about despite how much more my legs were flaring up, over the small faults and passed the gaping cracks in the earth. I refused to die here, not after surviving being mauled. Not after surviving that hell of a city. Not after leaving Tommy all alone, after I'd promised him to stay together.</p><p>I wanted nothing more to make sure he was alright, and after sleeping on it, perhaps I shouldn't have left. It was a heat of the moment decision, brought on by his arrogance and blatant disrespect of my opinion. But I couldn't bring myself to go back there; I just couldn't. I would rather hobble along with one good leg, bleeding out than return to that hell. I hugged the journal's briefcase a little tighter.</p><p>I didn't have to walk long to see my crimson pole reflecting in the bright midday heat. It stuck out at an odd angle, still buried deep into the bitch's skull. One end of poked out from the bottom of its jaw, and with its mouth agape, a part of the shiny and red metallic surface could be seen glistening, piercing its lolled tongue. Its teeth gleamed with my blood.</p><p>Blood and pieces of flesh littered the area of the wound, prominent, thick trickles of crimson matting the dog's fur all the way down its chest into the reddened water below. There was even some that found its way into its glazed eyes. One of its paws were bent backward, something I hadn't been aware I'd even done. I gazed at my handiwork, a gentle breeze ruffling my hair in the silence of the day.</p><p>With slow, silence-shattering footsteps, I accommodated myself so that I was stood over the carcass, setting the briefcase down gently besides me while breathing heavily as I stared down impassively at it. I kneeled down slowly into the dark red water, reaching my hand forward towards its face, my pole embedded in its forehead. My finger trailed the area where the two met, its blood darkening my hand as I curled around the pole.</p><p>With a much resolve, I gave the pole a firm yank. All I managed to do was cause a squashing noise to resonate from inside the skull as I twisted it about, grunting as it remained firmly lodged. A short puff of air exhaled from my nose during my struggle, in the end pressing a strong hand against the top of its dented head, using one hand to push it down and the other to pull the pole up. Only then did it dislodge, a splutter of dull blood spilling from the gaping hole left over.</p><p>I held the pole tightly in my hand, dipping the stained tip into the water to wash away the crimson and small chunks of brain that clung to it. They came off surprisingly easily. I glanced back towards the dog, now nothing more than an abandoned carcass, and not even a fresh one come to think of it.</p><p>The hunger in my stomach became prominent, and the rumbling only grew the longer I stared at it. I might have just eaten the other night, yet I already felt the familiar feeling of hunger start setting in once again, although I hesitated once I realized I was neither supplied to or in a strategic position to cook it. But then again, I couldn't merely let a meal go to waste. Who knew the next time I could manage to scrape another kill in my current state.</p><p>Another rumble, this one more painful than the last, finally knocked me out of my hesitation. I began reaching behind me for the knife I kept in the bag, fiddling around stupidly before my unbitten arm felt the serrated metal, wrapping around the edge to pull it out. I barely winced upon realizing I only further sunk the blade into my skin, slipping it out hurriedly from my pack. There was already so much blood on my hands it hardly mattered.</p><p>Gracelessly, I stabbed the blade into its upper thigh, being met with some resistance as the blade tried tearing the skin and fur apart from the inside flesh. I stabbed again, this time with more force, eventually managing to flay it after much grunting and panting. Once stilled blood dribbled down the leg, and I might've drooled a little upon seeing the soft flesh I'd revealed.</p><p>I'd gone so long on the edge of starvation; I wasn't even sure if I could finish this meal.</p><p>The knife I'd been holding fell into the watery muck with a sot splash that was lost to me one working ear, one of my grimy hands tearing the skin so that an audible ripping sound echoed in the near-silence, tossing the flayed piece into the water alongside the briefcase. I reached hungrily with raging fingers to tear a piece of the flesh off, succeeding and hurriedly stuffing the fist-sized piece into my mouth.</p><p>I chewed quickly, not bothering to wipe the blood that dribbled down my chin. The metallic taste flowed easily down my throat, the tough texture of the meat hard and unsatisfying to chew, but I forced my teeth to tear into it regardless. I ended up swallowing before I could actually taste it.</p><p>My hands quickly worked to rip another piece off, fingers weaving savagely through the muscle to get a good grip before promptly yanking it out like before. Stuffing it in my mouth once more, my teeth managed to cut into the tense muscle with a growl, working the meat for what felt like forever before I swallowed and licked my lips clean of the red liquid once more. There was too much of it for the small action to make any difference.</p><p>I reached forward again, my fingers digging deeper into its thigh, this time struggling more and more to loosen the meal from the animal. Despite all my ripping and jerking, the piece didn't loosen. Huffing and ignoring how my back and legs flared with every slight movement, I leaned forward, eventually resigning to shoving my face into its leg. Blood got into my eyes, but I didn't care. All I cared for was filling my stomach.</p><p>My teeth chomped down on a piece of muscle, the part I couldn't quite manage to free with my hand. I yanked my head back, the flesh staying firm as I growled. I kept tearing at it, my jaw beginning to lose its grip before it finally came loose. I hurriedly swallowed, choking and spluttering when it got lodged in my throat. It didn't matter; I forced it down, going back for another bite.</p><p>My fingers dug into its side to hold it in place, shaking my head about wildly just for it to fucking <em>tear</em> already. Grunting, I finally ended up pushing the animal down before yanking my head back, some of its blood as it tore splattering onto the nearby briefcase. Just like the other times, it was nearly impossible to chew, yet I worked it anyway, viciously gnawing at it until I could eventually swallow it. Huffs past my lips, the muscle much too tough to continue this pace much longer. And I was still so hungry.</p><p>My gaze flickered to its stomach, blindly fumbling for the knife I'd dropped into the marsh as drool joined the blood as it trickled down my neck. When I finally found its handle, I plunged it deep into the dog's abdomen, the soft flesh easily parting under its swift edge. I twisted it about so that blood gurgled out, the pent-up liquid adding to the red of the water. I didn't pay too much attention to the details; I only reached my hands in the newly made hole and ripped it apart.</p><p>This skin was much softer than its legs, and I once again found my tongue licking my chapped bottom lip. Ripping the flesh apart didn't make much of a ripping sound; Instead, it sounded more like something hard and crisp was crunching. Or perhaps that was in part because of how the ribs folded and snapped under my barbaric hands.</p><p>By lifting and flaying the furred skin, I could partially see some of the softer meat peeking out through the protective innards of the rib cage. I mercilessly yanked on some of the individual ribs, each one making a grueling <em>crack</em> as they were split from the sternum. They were tossed aside just as quickly as I'd dislodged them, my hands not even bothering to avoid the sharp edges the bones left as I reached into the carcass' organs.</p><p>My hand curled around something that fit in it easily, and with hungry, wide eyes I obeyed. I yanked it back out, something audibly snapping as I tugged it as hard as I could manage. Perhaps even with a little too much force. Whatever organ was in my hands was squishy and still warm, blood dribbling down my forearm as I slid my hand out from the innards. I would have been sickened from how nauseating the sensation of reaching into the warm, squishy inside of the animal had I not been so hungry.</p><p>Sinking my teeth into the organ was easy; In fact, it easily tore apart, letting me swallow it with no difficulty as I huffed, trying to chew it all at once. I could finally feel myself filling up. When was the last time that happened? Weeks, months ago? The organ was small, the last of it easily sliding down my esophagus.</p><p>So I sunk my hand in again, violently reaching deep into its chest. When I found nothing satisfactory, I forced my hand deeper, the movement causing the delicate skin to tear further. A piece of my sleeve caught on the broken, protruding bone, causing it to rip and draw a little blood from the skin beneath. Not like I didn't have enough scrapes anyway.</p><p>My hands curled around something else, and I all too eagerly tore it out. Despite being in a weakened state, my hunger only further motivated me. Red, slimy strings kept it attached to the interior. They were so delicate that another sharp yank freed them, although I did lose my grip on the tender organ in my mad dash. My eyes widened as it slipped into the murky water, staining it that familiar cloudy red. My hand reached for it, but my eyes flickered towards something silvery just behind it. I stared at it for a moment, hesitant on what to do.</p><p>I had gotten blood on Tommy's briefcase. I sat absolutely still for a minute, my legs starting to chill from being kneeled in the red water for so long. I brought a hesitant finger up to my lips, wiping away a small portion of the blood. All I managed to do was smear it further, too much ghastly liquid splattered onto me for the action to have any significance. I blinked, shifting my attention away from the mutilated dog back to the briefcase.</p><p>Its faux metal was still shiny enough to reflect the sun, the dent in its side having collected a small pool of red. With a shaky hand, I reached for it, leaving a sticky and repulsive print behind when I gently touched its edge. My hand reflexively pulled away.</p><p>The sun was still high above me, the silence still unbearably loud without a soul to see what I'd done. I panted, my heart beating faster than I recalled it too, letting myself take a deep gulp to swallow the last of the dribbling, slimy liquid. I quickly tried scrubbing my hands clean in the water below, but it was just as I'd feared: There was already too much blood.</p><p>Something trickled down my cheek and onto my neck, joining the caked-on crimson that had, for the most part, already settled. I reached back for the briefcase, for the moment not caring about how stained my hands were. I held it tight against my chest, letting one hand wrap around the other as I squeezed, breath hitching as I tried once again to wipe my face. I curled in on myself slightly as I tried to wipe my eyes with my soaked sleeves.</p><p>Perhaps what I did was a mistake, but Tommy wouldn't want me back. Not anymore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Black Valley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oh it's been a while since the last update,,,,, me perdonas?? :]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Wilbur POV</b>
</p><p>I looked down upon the lanky child laying down from where I crouched besides him. His soft snores and peaceful features were such a stark contrast to when Tommy was awake, save for the occasional unconscious wince of pain that disturbed his usually tranquil rest. Faintly singing the lyrics to one of my songs as I'd grown used to while caring for Tommy, I gently pressed the back of my hand against his forehead. He shifted slightly at the movement.</p><p>I let the melody taper off when the brief contact left my skin uncomfortably warm. Letting loose a quick sigh, I reached for the leaking bowl, dunking the dirty towel in it to soak it entirely. I pursed my lips as I brushed back Tommy's bangs, the boy huffing heavier than usual as I did so, placing the towel gently atop his stifling head so as to not wake him. He grumbled something in his sleep, but just as soon as he shifted, he fell back into his peaceful sleep.</p><p>I sat there in silence for a while, staring at the plethora of scars on his exposed skin, pushing back my sleeve and lifting my arm next to his to compare. His flesh was like a grotesque, bloodied mural next to my relatively unscathed one.</p><p>Biting my lip, I quickly let my sleeve fall back over my tanned skin, standing up as quietly as I could against the crumbled concrete of the makeshift ground. Tommy continued breathing, in and out. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but he seemed to breathe easier when I was near. Or perhaps that was just because I wanted to believe I still meant something to him.</p><p>"Fucking hell," I grumbled to myself, running a hand through my tangled hair with a grunt. The boy below looked just like Tommy, but I found myself wishing, grasping for anything to indicate that he was still the friend I once had. Unlikely, given the current situation, but I still couldn't leave him alone, even if his words kept mulling in my chest like my ribs were tightening inside me.</p><p>He whispered something in his sleep, hand squeezing the air. I chuckled softly, noting how my stomach rumbled terribly loudly, loud enough to cause him to whisper in the silence of the room's remains once again before finally stilling. I once again brought my hand to my hair, twirling a small lock as my thoughts wandered to the last time I'd eaten. But most importantly, the last time Tommy had eaten.</p><p>He'd been under my care for nearly two days now. In that small time, we'd barely spoken much, whether it be because he was sleeping for abnormally long or because he was being a total jackass. The little conversation I'd manage to pry from him I'd carried, although he had whispered something to me about a book of his, a very special one he called his Survival Guide. Clearly very helpful, if his current state was any indication. I didn't say that part aloud though.</p><p>In any case, the lingering longing that he tried to hide in his tone didn't go unnoticed by me, and I'd made sure to leave him a notebook and pen by his deathbe- No, bedside for him. The pages had all been soaked and sullied, but unfortunately it had been all I could manage for him. He was like my brother after all. I just wished I could do a little better.</p><p>When I first realized he'd been using it I'd been enthralled, thinking we could begin to mend our relationship once again, to have the comfort and reassurance I craved from a family I would never again have. I really shouldn't have been so surprised when he ripped out the page he'd written on tossed it into the swampy murk. The things he wrote couldn't have been too important then, I assumed.</p><p>Whatever this Survival Guide was, it clearly wasn't meant for me. I sensed something more intimate in the way he handled the pages, even though it wasn't his original book. There was something missing I could never replace, or that was the way it seemed to me. And I doubt it was the book.</p><p>I walked the short distance to my bag with a heavy heart, giving the boy one last glance over my shoulder before preparing myself to venture into the city streets. A part of me wondered why I was even doing this, risking and sacrificing so much just to keep him alive. He was so bitter, so secluded, and he didn't even give two shits about me. I exhaled worriedly, fiddling with the small charm the vendor had given me a few days ago, gazing darkly at its dulling shine.</p><p>"Tubbo?" A hopeful, raspy voice called, causing me to sigh once more. "You're back...?" This was common after all; He'd call out blearily for his friend before realizing it was just me. I'd asked him a few times on the subject, but each time I would get shut down. I wasn't too surprised by that fact, I wasn't so dense as to not figure out somethings on my own. They must have been together on the day of the earthquake. But just what happened to the brown-haired boy was something that might have been left better unspoken.</p><p>"How are you feeling, Tommy?" I asked, slipping my bag behind my back seamlessly, tucking the necklace back deep into my pocket, far from Tommy's view before he had a chance to see just what the charm was of. "Do you need some water?" Tommy tilted his head groggily, eyes dazed as they gazed up at my looming figure. He curled in on himself slightly.</p><p>"I'm fine," He grumbled sourly, opting to lay on his side so that his back was facing me while attempting to hide his wince. I rolled my eyes, knowing that would be the length of our conversation. With soft steps I walked towards him, noting how his towel had fallen from his head.</p><p>"I'll be right back," I told him, even though he was still pretending to ignore me. "Just hold still for a bit and wait for me, yeah you little shit?" He huffed at my attempt to lighten the mood but did nothing more, not even bothering to swipe my hand away as I readjusted his cloth. My hand hovered over his burning forehead for a moment longer, hesitant to leave him alone in his state.</p><p>"You're going to be alright, Tommy," I repeated quietly, bringing my hand to his head to ruffle his hair gently. "You have to be. We're the only ones we have left." Tommy leaned into the touch, a faint smile growing on my lips as he did so. His words could be so cold, but rare moments like these helped pull me through.</p><p>I pulled away upon hearing his stomach growl, fingers hesitantly retracting back to my side as I slowly got up. The only indication Tommy noticed was that he tilted his head a little farther away, pulling the thin blanket I'd managed to barter for him a little tighter over his trembling figure. He had changed so much, but he was still so small in my eyes.</p><p>"Promise I'll come back with something to eat," I whispered before making my way towards the door. "Take some meds if you think it's getting worse." My bag was heavy on my back, knife warm in my hands. A trickle of sweat made its way down my spine, because in reality? I had no idea how I was going to feed him. And the very thought left me absolutely terrified.</p><p>"Stop saying shit like that." Tommy's tired voice reached my ears just as I was about to slip through the window that served as our door. "We both know you're a fucking liar. There's nothing you can do, so stop living in whatever fantasy world you're in and come back to hell." My breath hitched.</p><p>"I'll... Just wait for me," Came my clipped and curt reply, risking a glance back at his feeble figure as I slipped out for what would hopefully be the day. His shoulders shifted, probably from his scoffing. I bit my lip, ignoring his words for now despite my chest folding in on itself. I wouldn't- Couldn't let Tommy die on me, so that morbid fucker was just going to have to get his shit together.</p><p>As soon as I stepped into the bustling streets my face fell as the little hope I had was immediately squandered. My mission was to get food, but I was suddenly made aware of how daunting the task before me was. I had no idea where food even was, let alone where to even start looking for some.</p><p>I'd been here for three days but there were already a few truths I'd quickly learned about the place.</p><p>One: Supplies are limited. Food had never been such a problem when I was on my own. Dogs were more or less always readily available then, but in the ramshackle city, the vast number of people had completely depleted the nearby food supply. Scavengers and vagabonds roamed the streets for a meal, and they didn't care who they had to cut down to get it.</p><p>Two: Everyone is out to get you. Gangs were commonplace, and it seemed as though the mere act of not being in one left a person at a severe disadvantage. Without the insurance of being protected, it seemed to leave a target on your back for those in a hunt for either reputation or a relatively quick and painless supply grab. Or worse yet... The cannibals I'd met on my first day here.</p><p>Three: It was impossible to trust anyone. There was a delicate balance in this city, one I wasn't too privy to the workings of. It seemed as though order was mostly maintained through 'Start shit with me and you'll regret it'. As long as you seemed able to fend yourself off you stayed safe. The weak were quickly purged. But it wouldn't take much for that hesitant, uneasy feeling of peace to shatter.</p><p>All in all, a lovely city. I wanted nothing more but to ditch it all and run, however, there were supplies here that Tommy needed that would be all but impossible to find should we venture away. Not only that, but I wasn't sure Tommy would even survive the journey. I huffed, squinting up at the smoldering sun, it's sweltering rays much hotter than I would have preferred. I lifted the hood of my jacket over my face to cover my eyes.</p><p>If I had to give it some credit, it was that it was free of many of the natural dangers that plagued the rest of the world I'd seen. Not only that, but shelter and supplies apart from food were plentiful, and it seemed as though the majority of people were like me: Just trying to get by. Passing through the faulted streets, I could see every type of vendor imaginable, giving the place a buzz of life. A wonderful, warm buzz of life that almost felt like home, those late nights where I'd walk the city streets.</p><p>Nobody spared me a glance, too consumed in their own to focus on a man that for a moment, let his thoughts dawdle on something that was no longer. I took a shaky breath, reminding myself to not linger on the memories that no longer mattered once more with a huff, brows furrowing as I forced a foot in front of the other. All that mattered was finding something to eat, anything I could scrounge. I curled my fingers around the necklace in my pocket, stabilizing myself before I continued the impossible journey I hadn't even begun.</p><p>I couldn't come back home empty-handed; The heartbreak and despair would break me. But glancing around with flitting, anxious eyes, I couldn't help but feel that hopelessness begin to consume me. Tommy was all I had left, but I had nothing to help him. Our food ran out, I had nothing to trade, and glancing in the still waters, a deteriorating body looked back at me. I was so lost.</p><p>My footsteps crunched against the disintegrating remains on building that made up the ground as my legs carried me further into the city's heart, still no solution in sight. Biting my lip, I rubbed my small charm, with delicate fingers clicking it softly around my neck as I walked, holding it close as though to fight off my desolation I'd been (and quite frankly, still was) trying to ignore all this time.</p><p>But then a loud yelp caught my attention, my eyes widening as I turned towards the source, a hitch in my breath upon realizing that I might have found a way. To keep Tommy alive, to find some clarity in my broken world. It was a young man, cursing as he got up after he'd tripped. He was thin, rather short, clearly not very strong. Most importantly, he also wore no identifying mark of a gang.</p><p>He was weak and all alone.</p><p>My fingers twitched around my blade, lips pursing into a thin line. I brought my hood a little tighter over my head, forcing myself to look away as my heartbeat pumped a little faster, breath racing a little faster at my inner turmoil. The thoughts running through my head sickened me, the mere notion making me want to retch, but I suppose morality wasn't exactly something that would keep Tommy alive. Besides, I needed supplies and- and food. Survival of the fittest and all that, right...?</p><p>A gulp passed through my throat as I took a step forward to follow him down a run-down alleyway, pushing everything down except my drive. I reassured myself that this was the same as getting Tommy's medicine. Convince myself that Tommy needed me to do this, that Tommy's survival was dependent on it. Morality wasn't a luxury I could afford, not with Tommy's life on the line. My face hardened with determination, my hands shaking as they tightened around the handle.</p><p>"<em>Don't follow him,</em>" A familiar, nonchalant voice grumbled in French, causing my entire body to jolt as I spluttered in surprise. I whipped around to face the black-haired girl with wide, startled eyes. The vendor that had given me the charm on my first day passed by, not bothering to neither look back nor elaborate on what I assumed was a warning, merely carrying on with her day.</p><p>My lids fluttered as I blinked rapidly, stunned as my grip on the rough handle of my blade loosened when my muscles let the tensity out. My wide gaze stayed on her, my jaw moving yet not saying anything, trying to ignore the way my hands trembled in my pockets, just like how I ignored everything else. I whipped my head back to the man, the one that would have been all too easy for me to- I caught sight of the last of his dark coat slip into the alleyway before once again shifting my attention to the vendor with my perplexed gaze.</p><p>"Hold on now!" I called out, rushing after her after my moment of raw panic, the adrenaline still coursing through me. My breath was raggedy as I forced my legs to move, pumping so fast I nearly tripped on my own feet in my mad dash through the many ragtag stalls and uneven terrain. I gulped in air, knowing I shouldn't have felt so sickened. I shook my head, both to free me from the thoughts and the gross chill down my spine.</p><p>To the inattentive eye, she carried herself just the same, same thin pursed lips, same disdainful posture. Perhaps it was my imagination, but she seemed more sullen than before, as though I had irked her when I made my presence known. Somehow she seemed even more ghastly and worn than last time, although I suppose the same could have been true for me. Her gaze dropped to my chest where the charm rested against my heart, huffing mirthlessly. My fingers instinctively curled around it protectively.</p><p>"<em>How have you survived this long</em>?" This wasn't much of a question. She pretended to ignore the charm, meeting my bewildered my eyes as we stood in a sort of stand-off. My hand twitched when she began twirling her blade between her fingers, tightening her grasp on the bag on her shoulder. There was something the way she handled it that made it clear she wouldn't hesitate to slice my neck in two.</p><p>"I have somebody that needs me," I answered despite her narrowed eyes, gulping and ignoring how she raised her brows at me. Her opinion didn't matter after all; I knew she thought me a fool, thought that the sight of a boy writhing and dying would have been acceptable if it meant my own survival.</p><p>Perhaps it was my own stubborn inability to give up my old life, or maybe just my inability to accept that my morals were faltering, but I just had to help him. Tommy was weak and alone, a bit of a prick, yes, but the only thing I had left since hell started. I refused to lose him, even if what I had to do to keep it that way made me want to vomit my very guts out. I suppose my thoughts flashed briefly on my face because then she sighed, narrowing her eyes at me once more.</p><p>"<em>That has nothing to do with it,</em>" She snapped, clearly irked by something as she stopped gazing at the plethora of vendors to look me in the eyes. "<em>You're just lucky; You have no idea what you're doing. Your somebody's going to die, and so are you. That luck has got to to run out eventually.</em>" My body stiffened again and I resisted the urge to snap right back at her. Instead I merely narrowed my eyes, loosely curling my fists, the charm pricking against my palm.</p><p>"Just- Shut up." There were more words bubbling inside me, but I refrained, trying to regain my focus on what was important now. "You're don't know anything, not about me, not about us. I have to get Tommy something to eat, and you- Just what the hell was even the point of talking to me, that guy must have gotten fucking away by now." Her brows raised again at my words, scowling as she crossed her arms around herself.</p><p>"<em>Don't know anything?</em>" She scoffed, her lips curling upward in disbelief as she narrowed her eyes. "<em>I've been here long enough to know ever- Whatever. Just know that</em> <em>gangs like baiting newcomers, sending a weakling out to lure some sucker into a trap.</em>" My face blanched in horror.</p><p>"I- Th-Thank you." The color from my face fell, jaw agape and breath hitching as I fumbled for words, the shock of her statement hitting me at once. Because I had nearly died. Tommy would have been all alone, curling in on himself, probably aware of what happened but unable to do anything about it as he slowly starved to death. The image of his writhing form worsening as he both bled out and had his body tear itself apart was almost too much.</p><p>The rapid beating of my heart returned, this time banging against my ribs as I gulped down the nausea that had begun rising in my throat. I gripped my chest a little tighter, wondering just how often this happened to me. My mind wandered to the gaping hole in Tommy's stomach, oozing pus and gurgling a sickening brownish crimson. He must be so strong, being able to not only survive, but hide his pain. My face remained pale as my heart quivered, skipping erratically in my frail, frayed nerves.</p><p>"<em>I'm assuming this 'Tommy' is incapacitated.</em>" She gestured towards the empty space besides me while I tried to hide that I was still fighting for breath. "<em>The best way to get enough for you both is through hunting.</em>"</p><p>"Why are you telling me-" I choked on my own spit and hopelessness, coughing not so subtly into my hand, the necklace I'd been clutching falling out of my hands. "Why did you save me?" There was a bit of an awkward pause after that despite the never-ceasing rumble of the city around us, people bustling about so loudly, yet not loud enough to fill her silence.</p><p>Her gaze was caught by the charm as it glinted in a brief ray of brilliant light, the brilliance just as quickly fading as it fell back into my shadow. A darkness spread across her face, gaining a new level of uncertainty in herself at my question. I had never seen that expression on a person before, doubt and turmoil, desperation and suspense- Apart from when I glimpsed at my reflection, of course. Her eyes softened slightly, although not at me. Something far off in the distance visible only to her.</p><p>"<em>Stay away from the Black Valley</em>." Her voice was low and wary, staring off into the distant rubble, almost as though she could see whatever this 'valley' was from where she stood. "<em>Just- Stay away.</em>" I glanced behind me, as though I could too see what caused her body to stiffen from fear so, but there was nothing but city ruins and a glaring sun.</p><p>"What's the valley?" My quaking voice croaked from my dry throat, swallowing doing nothing to ease my frayed nerves and reeling stomach. "Is there something in it that's dangerous?" My eyes whipped forward once more to face her, but her back was already to me, biting her lip as she tightened her grasp onto her blade. There was fear in her piercing eyes, some sort of trauma surfacing that was better left forgotten.</p><p>"If you see the black water, just prepare for death."</p><p>~~~</p><p>
  <b>Tubbo POV<br/></b>
</p><p>Black water swirled just below my shins.</p><p>It was perhaps a little thicker, but no more difficult to traverse than the regular murky swamp, but the feeling of wading through it was unsettling nonetheless. The darkness in the water wasn't clouded or opaque like the white water from the cliffs. The water itself was black, curling and clinging around my feet, the ooze seeping into my socks. I shuddered, and not from the chill of the cloudy night air.</p><p>A part of me whispered to turn around, to return from where I'd came. Tommy wasn't here anymore, after all, but I pushed the thoughts aside. My eyes squinted through the pale light before me, noting how the shadowed water reflected little of the few, trickling rays of moonlight. It was almost as if it were absorbing it, leaving destitution in its place. The further I walked, the thicker and darker the water got. My gaze fell to a particularly dark patch in front of me, biting my tongue as my reluctant stare continued.</p><p>Cautiously, I pressed another step forward, cringing when my foot landed on something soft. I quickly raised my maimed leg with a soft yelp, the squishing noise accompanied by the sensation of my foot sinking into its thick, unnatural ooze nauseating. Ooze couldn't even begin to describe the substance that dribbled down my leg, stinging my open cuts as it slugged in clumps back into the water with a sickening '<em>plop</em>'.</p><p>The water here was darker than before, the sludge more concentrated. I brought one hand to cover my twitching mouth, tentatively positioning the other over the water's surface as I fought the revulsion climbing up my esophagus. With a whine and a sudden spurn of determination, I plunged my hand into the gunk, groaning when my fingers wrapped around a nearly cohesive substance that fell apart and clung to my skin upon reaching into it. Something vaguely... Sized like a small dog.</p><p>I immediately stood up straight, wearing a sour expression as I tried to shake the gunk from my hand, which suddenly found itself oddly shaky. I took a deep breath as I wiped my hand on my pants, glancing left and right with narrowed eyes. It was hard to see without the sun's warm rays to guide me, perhaps even a little dangerous, but I'd spent much too long recovering to slow my pace now. The sooner I found a safe place, the better.</p><p>From the short distance the pale starlight allowed me to see, it appeared as though whatever sludge this was continued in either direction. Sweat trickled down my neck while my nose scrunched in disgust, realizing that I had to continue pressing forward in the muck. Not only was it sickening to the touch, but it also smelled awful. More so than the usual scent of rotting corpse, I mean.</p><p>There was of course the small voice that whispered for me to turn back around once more, but I ignored it, determined to overcome the blackened terrain despite my butchered body. With a grit of my teeth and steely resolve, I pushed through, ignoring how the water had thickened enough for it to seep into my multitude of still-healing scars.</p><p>The water -Or muck, I supposed I should call it- was sliming cohesively, making disgusting glop sounds with my every step. Grumbling faint curses under my breath, I quickly learned to merely ignore it, blocking out the pain and smell successfully, reassuring myself that this was the right decision. There was no safe shelter for ages if I turned back, so really, my best option was to continue into the sludge-</p><p>My body froze after a shudder when my foot hit another concentration of deep, ebony goop. Frantic eyes glanced down, the water splashing as much as its thick viscosity would allow as I refrained from yelping again. This concentration was darker and significantly bigger, not falling apart as easily as the last one. Grimacing, I took a step back to examine it in the faint light that peeked through the cloudy night. The shape of this one was even more ghastly than the last as well.</p><p>This time when the thought to turn back struck my mind, I was tempted to follow it. My leg instinctively took a step back, spine stiffening once more as the back of my foot struck the same soft goop, this time disintegrating whatever it was I'd stepped on. Although by this point, I was starting to get an awfully clear visual image that I did not wish to see.</p><p>"Surely not," I huffed, head tilting up to the overhead moon, eyes widening and jaw slackening when the cloud that'd been covering its unsettling illumination passed, allowing its light to briefly flash on the black water's surface. Not-so distant howling soon met my ears, my body trembling as my furious hands desperately clawed for my blade, heart beating erratically as I got a glimpse at what the moonlight revealed.</p><p>Corpses. So many corpses.</p><p>My senses heightened, suddenly hyper-aware of the dog, human, and other unrecognizable figures alike decaying in the water, disintegrating into a perturbing mass of black sludge. Their features were all but lost to the nightmares muck, even the ones that weren't fully decomposed. They were all nothing but a mass of deep darkness in the already morbid spectacle before me, spread out for as far as the eye could see. The water lapped gently, as though unconcerned with the horrors it masked.</p><p>The stench got to me. I choked on the beginnings of my own vomit as it purged itself from my throat, the bitter taste staining my tongue as I heaved. Spittle and the slick substance dribbled down my chin as I fought the urge to kneel into the liquefying cadavers, hacking with hitched breaths as I choked the last of my feral meal into a freakish puddle that didn't blend with the depths.</p><p>"F-Fuck," I rasped out, taking another step back, shoes sinking into the mud as I wiped the dribble with my sleeve, resisting the urge to retch again. There were just so many bodies, so much of the thick ooze it was all but impossible to see it, even after the light fell behind the clouds once more. The image was ingrained in my brain, just as clear as Tommy's face. It was so vivid I could almost imagine Tommy's figure as one of the multitude found in the black water.</p><p>I regret leaving Tommy's side more than I would have ever imagined, the emptiness in my very soul suddenly so overpowering and despairing.</p><p>My lips were utterly parched, throat so dry it went sore, but I forced a large shaky gulp of air down my throat as I shuddered, twisting my foot into the mud to try and rid myself of the sickly gelatinous sensation burning into my wounds. Barely resisting the urge to hurl again, my grip unconsciously curled around my blade ever tighter, my eyes widening as the sounds of feral mutts got ever louder.</p><p>I must've whimpered, my breath raspy as my throat constricted, but I ignored it, instead left staring with my jaw agape at the the non-reflective water in the whirling night. The viscous water lapped calmly at my shins, my aching muscles refusing to continue onward while my fingers fought the quaking that was overtaking them. I kept my blade close to me, frightened eyes peeling over the shadowed, barren landscape while my ears listened intently to the distant howling behind me over the sounds of liquefying cadavers splashing onto my flesh.</p><p>"N-no," I stuttered against my will, grinding my teeth, unsure if I could push aside the memory of claws digging into my back and teeth burrowing into my legs long enough to push forward. A sharp, breathless inhale passed my chapped lips as the barking got louder, my wounds still fresh and tender enough to recall the sensation of my flesh being shredded apart whilst my screams were left unheard. My eyes weren't getting wet.</p><p>Somehow the water got even thicker than before, the ground beneath me more grungy concentrate than solid footing, causing my body to sway as I breathed as deeply as I could against the shifting ground, my balance suddenly hard to find as I tried to steady myself. The black water could hardly be described as water any longer, briefly shutting my eyes so as to regain some of my equilibrium.</p><p>For the brief moment my lids fluttered closed and the moon's muted glow was replaced instead by a self-afflicted calm, eyes blind but ears ever-listening to the howls surrounding me. The night air was chilly, startling me back to reality just as soon as I'd left, the sharp wind that passed through my thin, mangled sleeves into my unhealed wounds not the only thing that caused my breath to hitch.</p><p>My head snapped towards one howl in particular, eyes piercing through the darkness cast by the clouds, as though if by focusing intensely enough my vision would overcome its limitations. My pulse quickened abruptly, an intense pounding in my chest ringing faster and harder than I thought possible as I listened over my labored breaths, gaze savage and intense, hunting for the howl that rang dangerously closer than the chorus of hounds in the distance.</p><p>The one that sounded deranged and fanatic, and painfully human. An exhilarated howl from the bottom of the throat, subsequently followed by a multitude of hyped shouts. A whole crowd of them.</p><p>"God dammit," I cursed exasperatedly underneath my breath, although the significant lack of air in my constricted throat made it sound more like a gasp than anything else. The vague form of distant silhouettes over the unnatural faulted, sludgy terrain could be faintly seen, menacing and sinister. They were blurry from this far, hardly recognizable as human in the insufficient luminosity. It was only their shouting that alerted me to their not-so-afar presence that were approaching <em>much too fast</em>.</p><p>My grip on the handle loosened as sweat crept into my palms, eyes flitting about wildly across the barren terrain, mind instinctively driven for shelter. There was none, of course, but my shredded legs stumbled drunkenly towards the closest fault in the earth anyway, not paying any mind to the loud sploshing the concentrate made when I plowed through it in my senseless panic. I was hardly thinking straight anymore, too consumed with the raw dread knitting in my gut from the figures that it was a battle to breathe, barely holding back the nausea by keeping the vomit from lurching out my trembling lips. My chest faltered in its rapid, erratic beat.</p><p>"'s okay," I whispered soundlessly to myself, fumbling over my tongue. "You c-can't die. Tom-Tommy, T-Tommy, <em>Tommy</em>." My lips moved silently, the little noise that escaped me more of a whimper than intelligible words as I cowered next to the slightly raised earth. I hadn't even been fully aware of how I got there, just that my pants were covered in sludge and that it was clinging to my skin like a gelatinous leech.</p><p>My teeth grit in an attempt so as to not think about the substance burning its way into my ragged and clawed back that rubbed raw against the sticky earth as I slid down the fault, repressed groan still audible despite my desperate attempt to disregard the sheer agony of the soggy grains embedding into my wounds. Stifled sobs tried to escape, but I pushed them down alongside my vomit, instead feeling tears prick my eyes so that my vision was blurry on top of shaky. What used to be quivering breaths forcing itself past my nausea was a distinct lack of air, my pulse beating too fast to catch any oxygen.</p><p>The indistinct hollers reached my ringing ears, goosebumps wriggling onto my skin as they rapidly approached. Despite silencing my fickle breath with a forceful inhale and a bite of my tongue, choked whimpers continued trying to bubble out, my hands sinking underneath the gelid surface as they buried themselves deep into the earth behind me as though to ground myself. It wasn't working too well if that were the case.</p><p>The closer the people got the wider my eyes peeled and the harder it became to keep my ragged breath quiet. I might've screamed if I had the air to do so, my body unconsciously curling in on itself as I crouched lower still into the muck, stiffening at the chilliness of the sludge creeping into my veins the longer I hunched down into it. A gulp slid past the nausea, my lids clenching shut yet again, as I braced myself for sinking lower still into the thick liquid's frigid grasp. Because I wouldn't allow them to hurt me, I couldn't, anything but <em>suffocating</em> people. No more.</p><p>Their words were all but lost to me, if they had even been saying any in the first place. Despite the magnitude of the situation, I couldn't help but find my position familiar: Leaning with my back against a fault, water at my feet with harsh yet refreshing sun on my face, my best friend besides me with a pen and book in hand. Clutching the earth behind me tighter still, the sensation of a hand around mine was so vivid and bittersweet I couldn't hold a curt sob back. It was all but a distant memory now.</p><p>"<em>Tommy</em>," I tried to croak, the reminder of our laughter now haunting as I realized I was alone, so very alone in the expansive darkness. Nowhere was safe for me, alone in the freezing cold black marsh without Tommy. The faint, lingering hope of reuniting crushed as memory upon memory of people hurting, stabbing, killing us choked me. From Tommy's blood to George's corpse, all of it hurt more than the the open wounds that slithered through my very skin as I sunk even deeper. Curses ran through my mind as I was submerged further from curling in on myself, the stinging unbearable.</p><p>The footsteps and accompanying voices were so unbearably loud now, the ground before me all I could see through my tunnel vision as I heaved, my thought process so frayed it was all but useless. Wet earth crumbled beneath my hands as they shook, my primal instincts to <em>survive </em>suddenly consuming me as their haunting shouts crept dangerously near, so much louder than the pulsing in my temples. Thoughts of Tommy stubbornly snapped away as my brain finally shut down, only registering that I was going to die, <em>holy shit I was going to fucking die here I had to survive I had to get out stay alive just don't die fuck you're totally dead don't get caught you will die hide hide hide HIDE, HIDE NOW.</em></p><p>Hardly thinking, I plunged my body into the thick liquid, not daring to pry lips apart to spit out the vomit that clammed up my throat as the concentrate enveloped my body that easily sunk into the dense depths. Every part of my body told me to scream, from my blazing eyes to the intrusive viscosity that slithered down my ears and nose, even the goosebumps from where my ripped skin bumped into a nearby mass, the entirety of my uncontrollable figure thrashing about as much it could under the smothering darkness.. The cold surrounded me, holding back whimpers that would never reach the grisly surface as my every muscle clammed from the gelid, arctic-like freeze.</p><p>Even if I had taken a breath, I would've suffocated under the black water's heavy pressure, the constant gagging sensation from the back of my throat becoming harder and harder to resist as trickle of the sludge dribbled past my lips, mixing with the pent-up vomit poorly. The same feral reflex that dove me under the heavy waves now lurched against my delirious mind in an attempt to surface. Surely getting mauled was preferable to this, right? A hiccup threatened to part my lips, but not before a particularly painful lurch sent me hacking into the dark waters. Or perhaps saying the scum quickly slid the retch back down my throat would be more accurate.</p><p>I was suffocating in a sea of corpses, body too shocked to even move by the frosty concoction prickling my skin and it's sickening mucous texture sliding down my throat when my lungs instinctively sucked in a breath. I received none, instead being met with a sudden memory of falling, falling deep into dark waters. But I could see Tommy diving after me then, now there was nothing but mere darkness that asphyxiated me.</p><p>When my face broke the surface so suddenly, I didn't even think to question it, instead gasping sharply as my blurred vision fluttered the gunk from my lids, hefty drops sliming their way down from my bangs back into the depths below. For a brief moment I had forgotten why I had submerged myself into that torture in the first place, the sheer amount of concentrate plugging my ears causing an eerie ringing to sound, my sense of balance all but lost as I felt something slid its why onto my cheek whilst I spluttered dribbles of vomit and black down my chin and out my nose.</p><p>But then the moment passed, and my eyes widened as a figure came into focus in the shadows of the moonlight, feral and bloodthirsty grin unrestrained on her stretched lips. She was panting, fingers curling tighter around my neck, restraining me so that I was forced onto my knees, waist-high in sludge. Her hair fell around her face in a mad, tangled way, the twisted glint in her eyes shining under the ashen light, fingers trying to weave its way beneath my skin with sharp nails, toying with my Adam's apple as though preparing to rip it out. A scream ripped from my constricted throat, thrashing about wildly in an attempt to knock the unwelcome presence away.</p><p>I instinctively hacked the little I could, hands desperately clawing and scratching under her grasp while I bucked about so that a glistening, dark crimson substance smeared her skin when my nails dug underneath the rough surface. Wheezes and yelps racked the night, my face contouring in agony and desperation whilst the woman remained steady, never even flinching despite my pathetic attempts to free myself. In fact, she seemed pleased, continuing to worm her thumb in my throat so that I was left utterly breathless.</p><p>My lungs weren't merely burning as tears streamed down my eyes: They were on fire, a pressure so much more intense than I could have imagined racking me as my heart beat ever louder, the wetness sliding down my face doing little to clear the black grunge slathered and sticking to my skin. Despite my mind going hazy and feeling the darkness surrounding me beginning to slink into my vision, the desperation to survive remained ever prominent.</p><p>Every part of me was in a panic, so delirious with raw instincts I hardly questioned why or how my legs were moving. My saliva foamed and frothed from the corners of my lips, yelps turning to snarls as I lashed out against the immovable woman who only pressed further into my throat, my eyes rolling back into my head as I fell into unconsciousness for a brief moment before my own trembling shook me awake, not even the frigidness of the water registering in my numb limbs. My lids fluttered back open in a daze, seeing double as I kicked with all I had at her crotch. Which, expectedly, wasn't much, but surprised her enough for her grasp to loosen just enough so a painful gasp of air passed through my throat.</p><p>"<em>Arsch</em>!" She snarled right back in an unfamiliar tongue, though the sentiment behind it was clear enough. I managed to fight another wheeze of air through my crushed esophagus before her military boot connected with my chest, finally getting my pulse to pause momentarily as my body crashed into the sludge behind me. I heaved, another trickle of vomit sliding down my neck as I blearily attempted to spit it out, not getting the chance to as her looming figure approached, giving my head a solid <em>thwack </em>with the flat-sided axe she had in her other hand.</p><p>As soon as the metal contacted my temples, I blanched, an intense dizzy spell befalling me as my sense of direction completely crumbled around me. The pain radiated like an echo, spreading across my figure with darkness webbing at me. It finally felt as though I'd reached the breaking point, my lids twitching as thick blood trickled past where my ear had been and mixed with the black water. My chest shakily rose, as though unsure as to whether or not I myself had died, yet fell again anyway, a mixture of blood and puke threatening to choke me as my body twitched from the blow.</p><p>"Just die already!" The woman screamed in her peculiar accent with the same ferocious gaze, watching with glazed eyes as she raised her axe high above her head. There were figures behind her now, although their presence went unnoticed by my frayed thoughts. Delirious, I numbly reached forward with my pathetic strength towards the blonde, one side of my lips twitching upwards as I curled my hand loosely around itself, blood dribbling as my heart rate finally began to slow.</p><p><em>"Tommy," </em>I tried calling out, although I doubt my lips even moved, let alone made any noise. For a moment, I thought when the axe lowered that Tommy was lowering his hand to help me up and the little air in my throat finally left in an attempt to chuckle. We promised each other to always stay together, to always be the best of friends.</p><p>So why am I dying alone again...?</p><p>The woman roared a guttural shout from her throat, the momentum of the axe so strong and powerful I hardly had time to note that it was being swung. It's lusterless surface reflecting poorly, but still bright enough for it to catch my incoherent attention, dully noting my arm was still outstretched for Tommy.</p><p>Then the axe met my forearm, briefly jolting me awake as a piercing scream erupted from my raw and crushed throat, body jerking violently as the axe easily cut through the bone, leaving me gasping and stupefied, not even realizing she was holding the axe high above her head again. All I could think of at the moment was the sheer <em>pain </em>coursing though my bones, my veins, my head, my soul. A soundless whimper tried to escape my desperate choking, my adrenaline finally wearing thin as my body once again settled for unconsciousness in favor of the burning and stabbing pins that racked my arm, the gurgling of warm blood streaming from my limb not heating me in the slightest as I lay in the wasteland, ready to die.</p><p>There was a faint voice, promptly followed by a surprised yelp. The axe was coming in low again, this time towards my face, and a final shaky breath passed me as my chest refused to rise again, watching as one of the figures knocked the weapon from its path. This meant nothing to me as my eyes glassed over, the clouds above consuming my fuzzy vision as I whimpered pathetically.</p><p>"Tubbo?" My imagination must've whispered to me, and while it wasn't Tommy's voice, I pretended it was as my lids finally fluttered shut.</p><p>Some survival guide that turned out to be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>#beeboysurvive </p><p>so how was yalls day</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>